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GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION; 

CONTAINING 

u w 1 

THE PRINCIPLES 

7 - 

MIS j B 



ARTS OF READING AND SPEAKING; 

ILLUSTRATED BY APPEOPRIATE 

EXERCISES AND EXAMPLES. 

ADAPTED TO COLLEGES, SCHOOLS, AND PRIVATE INSTRUCTION. 

THE WHOLE ARRANGED IN THE ORDER IN WHICH 

IT IS TAUGHT IN YALE COLLEGE. 



iy 



BY JONATHAN BARBER, / 7 e 

MEMBER OF THE ROYAL COLLEGE OF SURGEONS, LONDON. 



"A full knowledge of the Principles and Practice of an art ena- 
bles an industrious and ambitious votary to approach perfection ; 
whilst idle followers are contented with the defaults of imitation." 
Rush's Philosophy of the Human Voice. 





NEW-HAVEN, 
PUBLISHED BY A. H. MALTBY. 

1830. 



frkH 



5 



gx^v\x.w^g 



DISTRICT OF CONNECTICUT, SS. 

BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the ninth day of 
\ L»S» \ December, in the fifty-fourth year of the independence 
2B^~»vx/wgg of the United States of America, Jonathan Barber, of 
the said District hath deposited in this Office the title of a Book, 
the right whereof he claims as Author in the words following — to 
wit : " A Grammar ef Elocution, containing the principles of the 
Arts of Speaking and Reading, illustrated by appropriate exercises 
and examples, adapted to colleges, schools, and private instruction, 
the whole arranged in the order in which it is taught in Yale College. 
By Jonathan Barber." 

In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States, entitled 
u an act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies 
of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such 
copies, during the times therein mentioned, and also to the act, en- 
titled " an act supplementary to an act, entitled an act for the en- 
couragement of learning by securing the copies of Maps, charts, 
and books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such copies during 
the times therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to 
the arts of designing, engraving and etching historical tind other 
prints." 

CHARLES A. INGERSOLL, 

Clerk of the District of Connecticut. 

A true copy of Record examined and sealed by me, 
CHARLES A. INGERSOLL, 

Clerk of the District of Connecticut. 



BALDWIN AND TREADWAY, PRINTERS. 



TO JA31ES RUSH, M. D. 

PHILADELPHIA. 



DEAR SIR, 

The treatise which you published in 1 827, entitled the 
" Philosophy of the Human Voice," was the first work 
that ever presented a true and comprehensive record 
of the vocal functions. Physiology is a science, the 
details of which, are discoverable only by observation 
and experiment. The history of the functions of the 
voice, is a legitimate department of that science, and 
you have investigated it in the only true method. Your 
work is strictly inductive : its philosophical principle is 
therefore correct. It combines, at the same time, such 
fullness of detail, with such an orderly classification of 
the vocal functions, as to entitle your views of the sub- 
ject, on the ground both of the comprehensiveness of the 
particulars, and the felicity of the arrangement, to the 
denomination of a science. Much less originality, 
depth, and accuracy of investigation, devoted to some art 
which mankind in general have been taught to consider 
profitable, would have brought you a more immediate 
recompense of fame ; not however, perhaps, a larger 
portion of ultimate glory. As to the practical tendency 



DEDICATION. 



of your treatise, I would observe that it satisfied my 
curiosity, as to the elements of the art which I teach, 
and enlarged to so great an extent my resources as a 
teacher, that the advantages I am constantly deriving 
from it, of themselves prompt me to a full and grateful 
acknowledgement of its merits. It naturally led to a 
friendly intercourse between us : for what is more pow- 
erful, when good moral qualities are not deficient, to at- 
tract and bind one man to another, than fellowship in 
elevating intellectual pursuits. 

The method of investigation adopted in your work, 
shows the reason why the ancients did not reduce elocu- 
tion to a science. Recent times first disclosed the true 
mode of investigating nature ; and your treatise will be 
admitted by all competent judges, to be a triumphant ex- 
hibition of its efficacy. 

This " Grammar of Elocution," is fruit gathered from 
the vine which you planted ; it is adapted to special pur- 
poses, which will be set forth in the preface, but is by no 
means intended as a substitute for your valuable work. 

In what I have said of that work, I have only dis- 
charged a debt of public justice, and told what I believe 
to be the truth ; I confess it has been with pleasure, be- 
cause I can subscribe myself 

Your sincere Friend and Servant, 

JONATHAN BARBER. 

New-Haven, Jan. 1830, 



PREFACE. 



The value of the following work must be estimated, I, by 
the importance of the subject of which it treats, and II. by 
the manner in which that subject is treated. 

I. As respects the importance of delivery, I shall offer 
an argument, which I consider as conclusive. It is found- 
ed on the opinion and practice of the Greek and Roman 
orators. Their evidence to the importance of the art of 
Elocution, and to the care with which it was cultivated 
among them, is full and clear. I see no reason to believe, 
that the ancients had any record of the functions of the 
voice — any science of Elocution, in the sense in which we 
possess it in the works of Steele and Rush, or in which I 
have endeavored to display it in this Grammar. The discourse 
of Quinctilian on the voice, may be considered as reveal- 
ing to us the Ultima Thule of their researches. But they 
endeavored to compensate by practice, for their deficiency in 
principles. The Greeks, especially, entertained very high 
conceptions of the end and objects of the fine arts generally. 
and of the art of speaking, among the rest. They were not 
satisfied, unless their efforts surprised, moved, delighted. 
They considered the true end of a fine art, was, to commu- 
nicate a high degree of satisfaction to a cultivated taste ; 
and they continued to labor, till they attained that end. 
Hence the long and painful preparatory exercises in speak- 
ing, to which they submitted, in the presence of their rhe- 
torical masters. These, however, were, as regards elocu- 
tion, rather an appeal to the taste of those masters, than to 
any general standard of science ; and the corrections must 



4 PREFACE. 

have been, for the most part, the result of individual feeling 
and judgment. But though thus destitute of what Cicero 
calls the " Fontes philosophic e quibus ilia manant,"* 
their sense of the importance of delivery, is strongly dis- 
closed in their history. I will not dwell on the case of 
Demosthenes, with his half -shaven head, his cave, and 
his practice on the sea shore, though they are an em- 
phatic record of his opinions on elocution, and of his sub- 
lime devotion to the pursuit of his art : but I will mention a 
fact, perhaps not so generally known. It is, that this distin- 
guished orator expended a sum, amounting to several thou- 
sand dollars, in the payment of a master of elocution. Ci- 
cero, after having completed his education in other respects, 
(and what an education !) devoted two years to recitation, 
under the most accomplished tragedian of antiquity. Caius 
Gracchus, who arrayed one half of Rome against the other, 
was so solicitous about the management of his voice in ad- 
dressing public assemblies, that a slave used to stand behind 
him with a small pitch-pipe, to set the prelusive note. The 
science of music was habitually cultivated among the Greeks 
and Romans, as subservient to the art of elocution. Statues 
were sometimes erected to distinguished Rhetoricians. In 
some instances, the public money was coined in their name : 
and their salaries frequently exceeded those of a Minister of 
State in modern Europe. By these facts, we are made ac- 
quainted with the opinions of nations who carried the art of 
speaking to perfection; and with the practices of the youth- 
ful declaimers, who became subsequently conspicuous on 
the theatre of public affairs. 

The oratory of the best Greek and Roman speakers, was, 
withal, eminently practical. They did not employ it for me- 



* Fountains of Philosophy, from which these things are de- 
rived. 



PREFACE 5 

retricious display, or empty declamation, but as an instru- 
ment of power in the state. Its aim and its effects were to 
convince, to impress, and impel to action. They were lead- 
ers in the busiest, most enlightened, and tumultuous periods. 
Their voices a shook distant thrones, and made the ex- 
tremities of the earth to tremble." 

Were these men mistaken, in estimating highly the advan- 
tages of an impressive delivery ? Or are we, who disregard 
them ? Were they deficient in matter, in power of argu- 
ment, in the learning of their times, in the compass of their 
subject, in the arts of composition ? I confine the argument, 
for the moment, to Demosthenes and Cicero, who, by their 
precepts and practice, are conspicuous advocate? of the ait 
of delivery : and I address myself to a certain class of 
society, who are constantly maintaining that scholarship and 
well exercised reasoning powers, are all that are necessary 
to the public speaker — to the minister of the Gospel, for in- 
stance, whose office is at least as much with the imagination 
and the heart, as with the intellect — I address myself to 
them, I say, and ask whether the great orators I have men- 
tioned, might not have put in a claim to exemption from the 
drudgery of elocution, if ever it could be safely pleaded ? 
Who is there among you, Gentlemen, whoever you are who 
have maintained this idle plea, that will venture to contra- 
dict these great men ? Had they not a deep sense of the 
value of time, and of the relative importance of their studies ? 
Look at their sublime devotion to their pursuit. Had they 
formed mistaken notions of their art ? Their unrivalled suc- 
cess in it, is the best answer to the question. Is it possible 
that they could throw away months and years in attaining an 
impressive delivery, unless assured of its immense impor- 
tance, EVEN TO THEM? 

Oratorical pre-eminence can be the aim of few only, but 
a correct and impresive elocution is desirable by all : by all, 



6 



PREFACE. 



at least, among the educated classes of society. It is par- 
ticularly so in this country. Here, a learned education is 
sought, specially with a view to some profession, in which 
public speaking must be exercised. Great numbers of young 
men are daily entering our colleges, who are to become min- 
isters of the gospel, or lawyers. In this country, too, no 
freeman is excluded from the state and national councils ; 
on the contrary, talent, when combined with an emulous 
spirit, is naturally invited to participate in their administra- 
tion : to say nothing of the frequency of public meetings for 
municipal or beneficent purposes. Under these circum- 
stances, there are but few among the well informed part of 
the community, to whom it may not be of importance to 
speak with correctness, ease and impressiveness; or who, if 
not able to do so, must not, sometimes, painfully feel the 
disadvantages arising from the deficiency. Hereafter, young 
gentlemen of America, some of you will deeply regret your 
neglect of the art of delivery : when you are obliged to do 
that indifferently, which you might have learnt to do well : 
when, on some interesting occasion, (and such occasions 
will come,) you find you cannot fix the attention of your au- 
dience — of the listening fair — when some competitor, more 
happy than yourselves, casts you into shade, and leaves you 
nothing but the consciousness of a mortifying comparison be- 
tween him and you — or when, seeing opportunities for ob- 
taining distinction, or fixing a profitable opinion in the pub- 
lic mind of your talents and acquirements, you are obliged 
to forego them, because you have despised or neglected the 
art of communicating your sentiments in an impressive and 
agreeable manner. 

II. It remains to refer to the following Grammar. It is 
not offered to the public, as a work of discovery. Two 
such works have appeared, within about half a century. The 
first to which I would allude, is Steele's Prosodia Rationa- 



PREFACE. 7 

lis : the other is Dr. Rush's Philosophy of the Human 
Voice. Mr. Steele first explained the measure of speech. 
I have availed myself of his treatise, and of his method of 
scoring, as far as I found them applicable to my purpose. 
Mr. Steele's work was published fifty years ago ; it is origi- 
nal, and somewhat abstruse : but of greater practical im- 
portance, than, perhaps, he himself perceived. About twen- 
ty years after he wrote, Mr. John Thelwall, a distinguished 
teacher of elocution in London, began to score poetry and 
prose readings with his pupils, on Mr. Steele's scheme, with 
his pen. A book which I published some time ago, was 3 as 
far as I know, the first printed exhibition of its application. 
Mr. Steele appears to have been wholly unacquainted with 
thephiysiological considerations which account for the mea- 
sure of speech, and indeed demonstrate its necessity. 

In Dr. Rush's work, the reader may repair to a fountain, 
at once deep and full. A leading object of this Grammar is, 
to render its principles practically useful to those I am called 
upon to teach, and to young persons in general. I have 
availed myself of his mode of explanation by diagram, 
wherever I thought it would be useful. 

To what has been thus obtained, and is here acknowledg- 
ed, I have added whatever my own obseivation and industry 
have enabled me to collect. Above all, I have endeavored 
to adapt the whole to the purposes of teaching. I have 
treated the subject of Articulation in a manner which I pre- 
sume will be deemed novel ; and I consider the elementary 
tables, particularly the table of consonant elements, as an in- 
dispensable portion of the work. I would farther observe, 
that its object is practical, not exclusively philosophical ; but 
I shall be greatly disappointed, if it is not found to answer 
the end I have in view — that of teaehing the art of Elocu- 
tion in the most effective manner, by recurring to those ele- 
ments of the voice, which it is the business of philosophy to 



8 PREFACE. 

discover, and of the philosophical teacher to apply. Some 
subjects treated by Dr. Rush, with great ability, I have left 
untouched. I consider his Section on Syllabication, one of 
the most luminous displays of philosophical originality and 
acuteness, to be found in his work ; but it did not appear in- 
dispensably necessary to the special object I had in view. I 
take, however, this opportunity of assuring every public 
speaker, and every philosophical actor, who may read this 
preface, that he will fail in his duty to himself and his profes- 
sion, if he neglects a diligent perusal of Dr. Rush's "Phi- 
losophy of the Voice." 

I would remark, in conclusion, that if this Grammar con- 
tains a correct and comprehensive practical detail of the ele- 
ments of speech, Elocution, unless it is to be abandoned al- 
together, must be taught on the plan here enjoined. The 
graceful effects of speech are dependent on those uses of the 
voice, which can only be certainly acquired by diligent ele- 
mentary practice. The student's certain road to eminence 
is by this path alone. " Sic itur ad astra." My whole ex- 
perience as a teacher, confirms me in this opinion. 

JONATHAN BARBER. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

Dedication, 1 

Preface, 3 

Articulation, ....... 13 

Table of the Vowel Elements of the English language, 21 

Table of the Consonant Elements, ... 22 

Particular Structure of the Vowel Elements, . .27 

Explosive Power of the Vowel Elements, . . 28 

Of the prolongation of the Vowel Elements, . 31 

Table of Consonants and Vowels, the consonants being 

placed first, ...... 38 

Table of Vowels and Consonants, vowels placed first, 40 

Table of Consonant combinations, ... 43 

Sentences, . . . . . . . 47 

General considerations on Quality of Voice, . . 54 

General considerations on Force of Voice, . . 55 

General considerations on Time, ... 56 

General considerations on Abruptness, . . 57 

General considerations on Pitch, .... 58 

Of the Elements of Sound which enter into the slide of 

the voice, when it is so managed as to give the 

greatest possible pleasure to the ear, , . 63 

Of the slides of Speech, 66 

Rising Slide, 67 

Falling Slide, 69 

Circumflex Slides* 70 

Elementary exercises on the slides of the voice, » 72 

1** 



10 CONTENTS. 

Radical Pitch, ....... 75 

Particular combination of melody, arising from special 
difference in the radical pitch of Syllables, 

Simple melody of Speech, . 

Full Cadence, . . .... 

Transition of Voice, ...... 

Employment of Quantity, ..... 

Of Plaintiveness in speech, .... 

Tremor of the Voice, ..... 

Force of voice under the form of Radical Stress, 

Force of voice under the form of Vanishing Stress, 

Force of voice under the form of Compound Stress, 

Force of voice under the form of Median Stress, . 

Aspirated movements of the voice, 

Guttural Emphasis, ...... 

Accent, ........ 

Measure of Speech, ..... 

Emphasis, ........ 

Examples of Emphasis with short explanations of the 
principal elements employed, 

Analysis of written language, 

Improvement of the voice, ..... 

Of the application of the vocal elements in expressing 
emotion, 

Drift of Voice, 

Faults of Delivery, 

Prevalent circumstances in elegant speech, 

Circumstances to be borne in mind in criticising a pub- 
lic speaker, ....... 

Directions to the Exercises, .... 



EXERCISES. 

Ode on the death of Thompson — Collins, 
Catharina — Cowfek, 



CONTESTS. 



11 



Adam and Eve's Hymn — Milton, 

Revelations, chap. v. . 

Ninth chapter of John, 

Chatham's Speech on employing Indians to 

against the Americans, . 

On the Being of a God — Young, 
The Grave — Montgomery, .... 
The Poplar Field — Cowpee, 
The Rose, — Cowpee, .... 
Parable of the Prodigal Son, 

The 139th Psalm, 

Procrastination — Young, .... 

Extract from the Task — Cowpee, 

Milton's Sonnet to Cyriac Skinner, 

Milton's Sonnet on his blindnes, . 

Apostrophe to Light, 

Cowper on his Mother's Picture, . 

On Sincerity — Tillotson, 

Hyder Ali, .... 

Fourth chapter of St. John, 

Satan calling the fallen angels, 

Marco Bozzaris, 

Address to the Rainbow, 

Othello's address to the Senate, 

The Ocean, Child Harold, . 

Lord Thurlow's Speech, 

Burke on the New-England Coloaists, 

Apostrophe to the Queen of France — Burke, 

Gray's Elegy, .... 

Happiness of Temper — Goldsmith, 

Summer Evening's Meditations — Barbauld, 

Plunket's Speech, ..... 

Execution of the Earl of Argyle, . 

Thoughts in a place of worship, 



fight 



205 
210 
212 

216 
220 

224 

228 

227 

228 

231 

232 

233 

240 

241 

242 

245 

254 

256 

259 

263 

265 

268 

270 

273 

277 

279 

281 

283 

288 

293 

300 

304 

308 



1 2 CONTENTS. 




Dog and Water Lily, . 


310 


The Deluge, 


312 


Hohenlinden, ...... 


. 315 


Address of Henry V. to his troops, . 


316 


Lucy — Wordsworth, . 


318 


Hall's Sermon, 


320 


Addison's Hymn, 


. 324 


Burial Service, 


326 


Antony's Oration over Caesar's Body, . 


329 


Speech of Patrick Henry, 


334 


The Battle of Warsaw, . 


339 


Speech of Cassius, .... 


341 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION* 



RECITATION FIRST. 
ARTICULATION. 

A perfectly accurate and distinct ARTICULA- 
TION, must form the basis of a good delivery. Speak- 
ing and reading cannot be impressive if the utterance is 
indistinct. Students of Elocution should therefore al- 
ways attend to articulation, as the primary object ; and in 
the first instance, it should be prosecuted alone, as a dis- 
tinct branch of the art, and prosecuted until perfection in it 
is attained. 

Indeed the secret of success in learning the art of de- 
livery, consists in attending to one thing at once. Fail- 
ures will always be frequent, as they ever have been, 
whilst it is attempted in the gross ; by the usual method of 
going at once to reading and declamation, and endeavour- 
ing to enforce articulation, emphasis, inflection, and many 
other things, altogether. 

The object of this first recitation is to lay down the 
elements of a distinct Articulation : to present this 
branch of the art to the view of the learner and teacher 
by itself; and, in such a simple form, that the one may 
have a scheme of teaching, and the other a definite mode 
of acquiring, this preparatory and indispensable requisite 
of all good reading and speaking. 

A slight attention to public speaking, or to reading, will 
show that a good articulation is very uncommon. The 
attentive listener has to complain, that, letters, words, and, 

2 



14 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

sometimes, considerable portions of sentences, are pro- 
nounced with so little force and precision, that the mind 
is constantly confused in its attempts to apprehend the 
meaning. 

Conversation partakes of the defect in question. But 
faults of articulation which do not strike the ear in conver- 
sation, become, not only apparent in public speaking, and 
reading aloud, but, sometimes, confound the sense to such 
a degree, that it is difficult to collect the general meaning, 
much more the precise ideas, contained in what is read or 
spoken. 

If a person would have a more impressive conviction 
of the truth of these remarks than mere assertion can 
produce, let him direct his attention to the single circum- 
stance of the articulation, in a series of recitations at any 
school examination — in the declamations of students at a 
college commencement — in public readings and recitations, 
even by professed readers and reciters — in ordinary dis- 
courses delivered from the pulpit, at the bar, in halls of 
assembly, at public meetings, or on the floor of Congress. 
Indeed, a faulty articulation is so extensively and gene- 
rally prevalent, that I have scarcely ever attended an ex- 
hibition of public speaking, by young persons, without 
hearing the language literally murdered. The defects 
carried from schools and colleges are but very partially re- 
medied in the world. 

Now, a speaker may be sure that an audience will never 
give him their attention long, if his articulation is such as 
to disappoint the ear and confuse the mind. Thus the 
very purpose for which he rises from his seat is frus- 
trated. 



ARTICULATION. 15 

Distinctness of articulation is not only necessary, in or- 
der to be heard and understood, it is a positive beauty 
of delivery. The elementary sounds of speech, when 
properly uttered, are in themselves agreeable. But to 
render them so, the following directions of a modern wri- 
ter must be observed. "In just articulation the words 
are not to be hurried over, nor precipitated syllable over 
syllable ; nor, as it were, melted together into a mass of 
confusion. They should neither be abridged nor prolong- 
ed, nor swallowed, nor forced ; they should not be trailed 
nor drawled, nor let to slip out carelessly. They are to be 
delivered out from the lips as beautiful coins, newly issued 
from the mint ; deeply and accurately impressed, per- 
fectly finished, neatly struck by the proper organs, distinct, 
in due succession and of due weight."* A good ar- 
ticulation is an affair altogether mechanical. It requires 
nothing more than attention and continued elementary 
practice. It depends upon a few certain definite positions 
of the organs of speech, and the power of varying those 
positions with rapidity, precision and energy. Now 
though every body admits this, scarcely any one attends to 
it. Experience shows that in order to ensure a good ar- 
ticulation to persons in general, some methods must be 
adopted not at present in use. What should those 
methods be? I answer the only sure means are a 
Series of Practical Elementary Exercises, which 
shall constitute a sort of gymnastics of the voice. 
These must be practiced — and persevered in. If the 
training, the methods of which will be pointed out 

^Austin's Choronomia. 



16 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

in this recitation, is steadily enforced, our experience en- 
ables us to say, it will be successful in ensuring to young per- 
sons a distinct, a forcible, and an impressive articulation : 
if it be not adopted and steadily pursued, as a preparatory 
exercise, and for such a length of time as the deficiencies 
of individuals may require, the usual defects will continue. 
Reading books on elocution, and receiving directions in 
lectures, have been already tried long enough, and tried 
in vain. Practice, practice upon a series of elementary 
tables of the primitive sounds of speech and of their varied 
combinations is the only remedy. We therefore advise 
that no pupil be ever permitted to proceed to reading or 
declamation, until distinctness of utterance is ensured by 
repeated exercises upon the sounds contained in the fol- 
lowing tables. 

Before we proceed to exhibit them, a few preparatory 
observations are necessary, in order to render the nature 
of the analysis, upon which we propose to found our in- 
struction, better understood. 

A good articulation consists in the precise, forcible and 
sufficiently prolonged utterance of syllables, according to 
an approved standard of pronunciation. Now a sylla- 
ble is sometimes a single indivisible sound : but sometimes 
it consists of several simple distinguishable sounds, into 
which it can be divided by the voice. If I pronounce the 
word MAN, it appears to a hearer unaccustomed to a 
scientific consideration of speech, to be one sound, not 
capable of division. It is evident to such person that 
an effort of the organs of utterance has been made, 
and that such effort is intentional, that it is in its nature, 
like that which I m^ke with my arm, when I intentionally 



ARTICULATION. 17 

put it forth to lay hold of any object within my reach : that 
the pronunciation of the word MAN is the effect of volun- 
tary muscular action: that the inner part of the mouth, 
the tongue, and the lips have undergone an alteration dur- 
ing the pronunciation, in obedience to the will. But, it is 
hardly to be supposed he would proceed farther than this in 
his inquiries. The word Max comes upon his ear as a sin- 
gle impulse, and is contemplated as a single and indivisi- 
ble sound. It is not at all to be expected that the person 
in question, should perceive that there are in this single 
word three distinct sounds. But the real order of things 
may be thus explained. In pronouncing the word MAN 
the lips are first intentionally brought together, and press- 
ed in a certain way against each other, and air being, 
at the same time, forcibly impelled from the throat, a 
sound is heard which somewhat resembles the lowing of 
an ox. This sound is the one represented by the letter 
M. The lips, which before were held in somewhat for- 
cible contact, are now separated, the mouth is opened 
and its cavity is put into a particular shape ; and air being 
again impelled from the throat during this position of the 
mouth the sound of A is heard, as that letter is pro- 
nounced in the word a-t. Finally this last sound being 
completed, the tip of the tongue is carried upwards from 
the lower part of the mouth, and pressed against the up- 
per gums, and roof of the mouth, and, air issuing from the 
throat in a forcible manner during this state of the parts, 
the peculiar sound appropriate to the letter N, is heard. 
In order to obtain a demonstration of the particulars of 
this description, let the word MAN be pronounced in a 
drawling manner, and let the process of articulation be 

2* 



18 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

carefully attended to during its continuance. Let the po- 
sition which the lips first adopt be maintained for some 
time, while the murmur by which the sound of M is pro- 
duced, is continued from the throat ; avoiding at the same 
time to proceed to the sound of the A: then ceasing to sound 
the M, let the A be next sounded alone, observing the 
particular shape which the mouth assumes during the 
sound, as well as the character of the sound itself: 
after this stop again, and whilst the tip of the 
tongue is pressed against the roof of the mouth and the 
upper gums, let the N be, slowly, murmured through the 
organs. After the three sounds of the word have thus 
been separately pronounced, let MAN be slowly uttered, 
so that each separate sound and the coalescence of them 
with each other, may be distinctly perceived at the same 
time. 

Now, for the purposes of science we call the three 
sounds, heard in the w T ord MAN, elements; because 
they are die simplest possible sounds into which the 
word can be resolved. An element is the simplest known 
form of a thing : for instance, water appears to be perfectly 
simple ; but it can be divided into two airs, called hydro- 
gen and oxygen. The first of these is highly inflamma- 
ble, and if set fire to, burns with a bright bluish flame : 
the other will consume a piece of burning charcoal, if 
plunged into it with extraordinary rapidity, and with greater 
heat and brightness than are produced when the char- 
coal is burned in common air. We therefore say that 
the chemical elements of water, are hydrogen and oxygen. 

A vocal element is a simple sound of the voice, or a 
sound not capable of being farther divided. The vocal 



ARTICULATION. 19 

elements of a language consist of the simplest pos- 
sible sounds into which its syllables can be divided, or re- 
solved. The division of syllables into their elementary 
parts is a branch of vocal analysis. This analysis shows 
that the vocal elements of the English language are 
(including the short vowels) forty-six in number. We shall 
for the present retain their common division into vowels 
and consonants, and shall first give a table of the vowel 
elements. 

Before proceeding to do this I would observe, that I 
am persuaded that tables of elements, if diligently used, 
will be found effective in teaching very young persons a 
distinct and graceful articulation. This must be at once 
admitted by the reader, w^hen he is informed that the for- 
ty-six elements exposed in our first tables do in different 
combinations, make up all the syllables of our language. 
Elements make syllables, syllables words, and words 
discourse. If each element which ought to he sounded in 
a word is distinctly formed by the organs of utterance, 
the word must be well pronounced, and if all the words 
are thus pronounced in a discourse, the articulation of 
such a discourse must be faultless. I should feel asha- 
med of urging such plain matters of fact, were it not for 
our extraordinary ignorance on the subject. I never yet 
pronounced the vocal elements of our language, in my 
public lectures, without exciting the mirthful wonder of 
the audience. Perpetually using, or, often, misusing 
these elements, persons in general are ignorant of their 
existence, as single specific sounds. I add another testi- 
mony to the importance of exercise on the elementary 
sounds. 



20 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

" When the elements are pronounced singly, they may 
receive a concentration of organic effort, which gives 
them a clearness of sound, and a definite outline, if 
I may so speak at their extremes, that makes a fine pre- 
parative for a distinct and forcible pronunciation in the 
compounds of speech." — Philosophy of the Human Voice. 
Sect. 47, p. 461. 



VOWEL ELEMENTS, 



21 



TABLE OF THE VOWEL ELEMENTS 

OF THE 

ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 



It is to be particularly noticed, that, in using this table, 
the attention is to be directed to the Elementary Sounds, 
actually heard in the words which are placed opposite to 
the letters and not to the names of the letters. The same 
letter sometimes stands in different words for several 
sounds. Attend therefore to the Sounds of the Elements 
which are, as the table of words shows, distinct. They 
are seventeen in number. The Element is separated 
from the rest of the word by the horrizontal line, — and is 
always distinguished by an italic letter or letters. 



1 


e 


2 


a 


3 





4 


a 


5 


e 


6 

7 


a long 
a short 


8 
9 


o long 
o short 


10 


ou 


11 


ee 


12 


i 


13 


00 


14 


u 


15 


oi 


16 


i 


IT 


ew 



as heard in the Word 



e-rr 
a-11 

o-bject 

a-ge 

e-dge 

a-rm 

a-t 

o-ld 

oa-ts* 

ou-r 

eeA 

i-t 

oo-ze 

p-w-11 

b-oy 

t-sle 

b-eau-ty 



* As the word is frequently pronounced. 



22 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



TABLE OF THE CONSONANT SOUNDS 

OF THE 

ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 



In this Table, (when the language admits of it,) one 
word is employed to show the consonant element at its 
beginning, and another to show the same element at its 
termination. The Element is distinguished from the other 
parts of the word in the same manner as in the preceding 
Table of Vowels. 



1 

2 
3 
4 
6 

6 t) 



as heard in 



7 

8 

9 
10 
11 
12 
13 
14 
15 
16 
17 
18!w 



k* 
1 

m 
n 



P 

jq 

r 

r 

s 

t 

V 



(trilled) 

(final) 



6-ow 

d-are 

/-ame 

g-ave 

A-orse 

j-ew 

#-ite 

Z-ord 

m-an 

7i-0 

p-it 

y-ueer 

r-ow 

s-ir 
£-ake 
v-ow 
w-oe 



or-6 
ai-d 

fa-g 

Geor-ge 

kic-k 

a-fl 

ai-w* 
ow-n 
ti-jp 



wa-r 
hiss 
ha-* 



* The elements K T P are mutes. They produce such a degree 
of occlusion of the organs that no sound can escape until they are 
united with some other vowel or consonant. It will be useless there- 
fore to attempt to sound them alone. 



CONSONANT SOUNDS. 



23 



19 


X 


as heard in 




e-#-ample 


20 


X 


(aspirate) 




ve-x 


21 


y 




y-e 




22 


z 




z-one 


ad-2 


23 


n § 






so-ng 


24 


th 




th-ou 


brea-^Ae 


25 


th 


(aspirate) 


th-umb 


tru-fA 


26 


zh 




a-z-ure 




27 


wh 




wA-at 




28 


sh 




sh-ow 


pu-sA 


29 


ch 




cA-ur-cA|bir-cA 



The ear can clearly perceive the difference of each 
vocal element in the foregoing tables of vowels and con- 
sonants from each other. Each is pointed out in the 
word or words in which it is found by an italic letter or 
letters. Such tetter, or letters, (where more than 
one stand for a vocal element,) if pronounced as 
usually heard in such word or words, will give the true 
elementary sound in question. Each vocal element, vowel 
and consonant, is to be exactly sounded, in the order of 
succession in which they are found in the tables. When 
no teacher is at hand to demonstrate the sounds of the 
elements with his voice, the following direction will lead 
the attentive student to a perception of them. 

Let each word by which the elementary sound is illus- 
trated in the tables, be pronounced in a very slow drawl- 
ing manner. During its pronunciation let special notice 
be taken of the position of the organs of speech, and of 
the particular sound produced, as the element which is 
the immediate subject of description, issues from the 
mouth. This slow drawling pronunciation is to be repeat- 
ed over and over again, until the element to be illustrated 



24 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

is clearly distinguished by the ear from the rest of the 
word, and the position of organs by which it is formed 
can be adopted at pleasure. It is then to be pronounced 
alone. In this manner all the vocal elements are to be 
sounded, and to be sounded with such a degree of energy 
as to come with marked distinctness, force and fullness on 
the ear. This sounding of all the elements contained in 
the foregoing table, is to constitute the first exercise of the 
student of elocution ; and it is to be continued until he has 
acquired precision, facility, force and fullness in uttering 
them all ; nor should he be permitted to proceed farther 
until this task is accomplished. 

When a class is formed, each individual should sound 
each element in his turn, from the table. Afterwards the 
whole class should sound them together in concert ; the 
teacher requiring the utmost degree of force in their utte- 
rance on the part of each student, and carefully watching 
that there is no deviation by any individual from the ap- 
propriate sound. 

A familiarity with the elementary sounds will show, 1, 
That the graphic characters called letters, represent two 
things — the sounds by which they are themselves named; 
and also the real elementary sounds which enter into the 
vocal utterance of syllables: 2, That the elementary 
sounds heard in pronouncing syllables ought to be care- 
fully distinguished from the sounds which constitute the 
names of the letters. This distinction is important, be- 
cause the sounds of the names of the letters and the sounds 
of the elements, (for both of which letters stand as sym- 
bols,) are, though sometimes alike, often, entirely different. 
In the word A-ge, for example, the sound of the element 



VOWEL SOUNDS. 25 

a is the same as that of the name of the letter, but this 
is not the case in the word A-ll. In the latter instance, 
a different element is expressed by the letter A : a diffe- 
rent one is again heard in the word A-rm. In the word 
■which none of the sounds of the names of the letters are 
heard. 

Every language, to be perfect for purposes of speech, 
ought to have a vocal alphabet ; so that every elementary 
sound should have its own appropriate character or letter ; 
and these characters, and none others, should be employed 
in spelling : no letter being admitted into a word which is 
not actually sounded. 

As one letter is now often employed to indicate entirely 
different sounds, and several letters sometimes stand for a 
single sound, we must be careful not to suffer ourselves to 
be confused by the written letter or letters in the words 
employed for the illustration of the separate elements. 
The sound actually heard is the thing to which we are to 
attend — the same sound is the same element though 
represented (as it often is) by different letters. For ex- 
ample, though we represent the vowel sound heard in 
Jew and in the French word Dieu, by ew in the former, and 
ieu in the latter, we shall hear the same sound, or near- 
ly the same, in the word Beauty, represented by the let- 
ters eau. Again, if we give a shorter and quicker pro- 
nunciation to the element a than it has as heard in a-ge, 
it will be perceived by the ear to be the sound which we 
hear in e-dge ; and so in other cases. We make these 
remarks, to render the subject easy to persons to whom 
such inquiries are new. To many, we are aware, the 
considerations here presented are perfectly familiar. 



26 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



QUESTIONS TO BE PUT TO STUDENTS AT THE END OF 
RECITATION FIRST. 

Is a syllable always a simple sound ? 

Can you give an example of a syllable which is a 
simple sound ? 

Can you mention a syllable consisting of three sepa- 
rate simple sounds ? 

Can you utter each of these three sounds separately ? 

What is meant by the term element ? 

What are the simple sounds of speech called ? 

How many vocal elements are there in the English 
language, including the short vowels ? 

Pronounce each of the vowel sounds with exactness, 
mentioning as you pronounce each a word beginning with 
that vowel. 

Pronounce with exactness the consonant sounds, men- 
tioning a word commencing and ending with each, where 
the language admits of it; in other instances let the word 
commence or end with the element in question, according 
to the necessity of the case. 

Pronounce the mutes by placing a vowel sound before 
and after each, so as to show their elementary sounds. 



VOWEL SOUNDS. 21 

UECITATIOX SECOND, 

PARTICULAR STRUCTURE OF THE VOWEL 
SOUNDS. 

The following Vowel Sounds, are found, on prolonging 
their pronunciation to be clear dipthongs. They are, 
nevertheless to be considered as vocal elements be- 
cause, though two sounds are heard in their utterance, 
these sounds cannot be disjoined by the voice, in pro- 
nouncing them. The unavoidable action of the organs 
of speech, is such as to present the two sounds in coa- 
lescence. A as in a-we, opens with the well known ele- 
mentary sound, but it ends with a feeble and obscure 
sound of e, as heard in the word e-rr. 

The same is true of a, as heard in the interjection ah. 
A in a-le changes in the progress of pronunciation to ee, as 
heard in ee-1, making the sound aeele, the ee being some- 
what feebler and more obscure than if it began a word. 

The same is true of i, as heard in i-eele, spelt i-sle. 

O in o-ld, goes into the feeble sound of 00, as heard in 
00-ze, as O oold. 

The same is true of ou, as ouoor. 

The other vowel elements are monothongs as distin- 
guished from dipthongs. This minute attention to the 
structure of these elements is necessary in prolonging 
them. In doing this we shall by anticipation of the sounds 
into which they run, be able so to manage the voice in 
extending them, as to prolong them to any desirable ex- 
tent with a preservation of their true pronunciation. With- 
out it, we shall be in danger of either drawling them or 
abridging the time of their pronunciation. 



28 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

EXPLOSIVE POWER OF THE VOWEL 
SOUNDS. 

We are about to describe a very important elementary 
function of the voice, which can be manifested in the ut- 
terance of the vowel sounds. All the vowel sounds can 
be exploded from the throat with great suddenness and 
force. The explosion appears to depend on a previous 
occlusion in the throat, the sound breaking forth from be- 
hind the occluded part. It will be effected by attention 
to the following directions. The explosion is to consist 
of a short and single act of coughing, forcibly made up- 
on each element. A short cough is generally made up- 
on the element e as heard in the word e-rr. Let the stu- 
dent cough out this element with as much force as possi- 
ble, and then let him substitute for it each of the other 
elements one after another, coughing in the same man- 
ner upon each of them, or rather coughing out their re- 
spective sounds. In doing this, he will exhibit that 
property of the voice which makes explosive stress. 
He may not succeed at once in displaying this function to 
the best advantage, but let him go on : it will come by a 
little time and practice. With a teacher there will be no 
difficulty, nor will any exist long for those who practice 
alone, if they belong to the class of resolute spirits, who 
when they do not find a way ready made, set about to 
make one for themselves. 

This sudden and very forcible utterance of the vowels, 
is stress in its most simple and elementary state, and in 
its highest degree. It is a function of the voice, which 
may be acquired by practice upon the elements, so as to 



VOWEL SOUNDS. 



29 



be at the command of the speaker at any time he may 
wish to employ it, in the utterance of w T ords or syllables. 
It is necessary to use it in reading and speaking, in various 
degrees, according to circumstances. We cannot now 
shew all the important uses to which it may be applied. 
The student may however, assure himself that the acqui- 
sition of it to a public speaker, is worth all his pains ; and 
that the only mode of obtaining it, is by the method of 
practice we have enjoined. 

We will notice the following important applications of 
stress. Vowels form the body of most syllables, and the 
audible and satisfactory distinctness of all short syllables, 
in public speaking, depends upon the degree of abrupt- 
ness and force with w r hich they are exploded by the voice. 
The kind of stress acquired by exploding the vowels 
constitutes one of the forms of emphasis. This stress 
is also the natural symbol of great energy of feeling. 

But independent of emphasis, or the indication of any 
particular state of the feelings, if words are not marked 
by a due proportion of percussive or explosive stress, 
they will not be audible through an extensive space. 
Brilliancy, sprightliness, and energy of delivery, without 
which oratory has no existence, and which are essential 
to render a public speaker interesting, are dependent on 
a well marked and sustained stress. 

As, then, the power of uttering the vowels in the man- 
ner described, is necessary to a distinct articulation of 
these sounds, (especially in short syllables,) and as it is 
one in which even practised speakers'* are very often de- 

* I was made sensible, some years ago, by the author of the 
" Philosophy of the Human Voice," of my own want of sufficient 

3* 



30 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

fieient, a table of those elements is subjoined. When 
the student can explode them with effect, he may be as- 
sured he has obtained a mastery over one of the most 
important uses of his voice, as respects articulation, as 
well as other points of the art. When a class is to be 
exercised, each individual should be required to explode 
every element, found on the table, with the utmost degree 
of force, united with abruptness, which he can command; 
and then the whole class should pronounce them in con- 
cert. This practice, besides the advantages already 
mentioned, will be found to be a more effectual method 
than any other of obtaining a strong and powerful voice — 
of strengthening such voices as are feeble, and of giving 
fullness and strength of tone to all in proportion to their 
natural capacities. 

The student has not obtained that use of his voice which 
it is the object of the table to teach him,' until every 
sound it contains can be uttered with the suddenness of the 
report of fire-arms, without any apparent effort preceding 
the explosion, with a very high degree of percussive force, 
and with strength and fullness of tone. We should per- 
haps add, that we greatly doubt whether persons in general 
will ever gain strength of voice, in any other way, than 
by exploding the elements : and we know that persons with 
feeble voices have been rendered capable of speaking 
forcibly and impressively in public, by a perseverance in 
the practice here recommended. 



explosive stress, and was induced, by his advice, to commence the 
practice here recommended. I found it completely successful in 
obtaining this use of the voice. 







TOWEL SOUNDS. 






TABLE. 


1 


e 


as heard in 


e-rr. 


2 


a 




a-11. 


3 







o-r. 


4 


a 




fl-ge. 


5 


e 




e-dge 


6 


a 




a-rm. 


7 


a 




a-t. 


8 







o-ld. 


9 


ou 




ou-r. 


10 


ee 




ee-\. 


11 


i 




i-X. 


12 


00 




oo-ze 


13 


u 




p-^-11 


14 


oi 




h-oy. 


15 


i 




isle. 



31 



OF THE PROLONGATION OF THE VOWEL 
ELEMENTS. 

Articulation is rendered distinct and impressive by 
a prolongation of certain vowel elements, as well as 
bv giving them percussive force. Many of them can 
be lengthened in pronunciation, to any desirable extent 
without altering their distinguishing and appropriate 
sounds, and with an increase of their beauty and expres- 
siveness. 

In prolonging the vowel elements, the student should 
carefully attend to the following particulars. Their na- 
tural and appropriate sound is to be preserved — they are 
to be altered only in length — there is to be no drawl in 
their pronunciation, nor any mixture of sons — each is to 
have the character of pure speech. These several par- 
ticulars will be secured by attending to the following di- 
rections. 



32 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



Let the voice open upon the element with some de- 
gree of fullness and abruptness, — let it gradually and 
equably diminish in volume of sound as it progresses, 
ending in a feeble vanish of sound into silence. This full 
opening and final vanish are essential to the preservation 
of pure speech. The prolongation of the alphabetic ele- 
ments is an exhibition of quantity in its most elementary 
state, as their explosion is of percussive stress in its sim- 
plest form. 

This mode of uttering some of the vowels ensures, by 

its protracted time, their contradistinguishing impression 
on the ear, and is besides, a beauty of delivery, the uses 
of winch are to be hereafter more fully treated, in the 
consideration of the time of the voice or quantity. It is 
most satisfactorily demonstrated by the teacher's voice, 
but may be illustrated by the annexed diagram. 



O-oo. 



Supposing the element to be uttered is 0, in pro- 
longing it, it will degenerate into the sound of 00, (as 
before explained,) and the diagram tapering to a point 
shows the gradual or rather equable decrease of the force 
from the opening of the element upon the ear, till it dies 
away in silence. 

Table of those Trowel Sounds which can be protracted in 
utterance without changing their natural expression. 



1 


a 


as in 


a- we. 


2 


a 




a-ge. 


3 


a 




a-rm 


4 







0-ld. 





vow 


EL SOUNDS* 




5 


ou 


as in 


ou-w 


6 


ee 




ee-1. 


7 


00 




oo-ze. 


8 
9 


oi 
i 




b-oy. 
i-sle. 


10 


ew 




h-eau-ty 



33 



QUESTIONS TO RECITATION SECOND. 



1 . Which of the vowel sounds are clear dipthongs by 
prolongation ? 

2. Are the vowel sounds susceptible of explosion ? 

3. What are the circumstances which render the ex- 
plosion of the vowel sounds satisfactory ? 

4. What are the particular advantages of percussion 
in the utterance of the vowels ? 

5. The student is required to explode each vowel 
sound. 

6. By what other means than explosion can the vowels 
be rendered distinct and impressive ? 

7. Which of the vowel sounds are susceptible of pro- 
longation ? 

8. What are the circumstances which should attend 
the prolonged utterance of the vowel sounds ? 



34 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

RECITATION THIRD. 

It is difficult, indeed impossible, to describe exactly, 
upon paper, the position of the organs of speech in the 
formation of elements. But in uttering the consonants the 
student will easily be led to make all the necessary obser- 
vations for himself, by attending to the following remarks. 

B. P. M. If the vowel a, as it is heard in the syllable 
at, be placed before each of these elements, the sounds of 
ab, ap, and am, will be produced. Let these syllables 
be slowly spoken, and the positions of the organs of speech 
which occur in the formation of the three consonants be 
retained, until they have become an object of sufficient at- 
tention, and the method of giving precision and force to 
these elements will thus become apparent. It consists 
simply in the power of increasing the muscular force of 
the parts brought into contact in their formation, and of 
changing rapidly from one elementary position to another. 
This will be evident by uttering the sounds ba, pa, ma, 
with great force and in quick succession. 

W. Wh. Q. The first of these elements is heard in 
w-o ; the second in wA-at ; the third in j-ueer. Let the 
organs be arrested upon the consonant sound, and their 
position will become perceptible. There is not as strong 
a contact of parts in the utterance of these as in that of 
b, p, m. 

D, J, L, and final R, are heard each in their turn at 
the end of the words ai-d, geor-ge, a-ZZ, wa-r. The R 
which commences a word or syllable should be trilled 
(but by a single slap of the tongue only,) as in the word 
r-uin. 



CONSONANT SOUNDS. 35* 

The special position of the organs and the degree of 
force exerted by them in pronouncing the elements T, Tb, 
Th (aspirate,) Y, F, S, V, Sh, Z, Zh, X, X (aspirate,) K, 
G, H, Ng, Ch, may be ascertained by slowly pronouncing: 
the words T-ale, TA-ou, TA-istle, F-e, jP-ar, S-ir, F-ale r 
SA-ave, Z-one, a-2-ure, ve-x, e-#-ample, &-ick, g-ag, 
ff-orse, si-ng, CA-urch. After slowly pronouncing all the 
words here put for illustration of the sounds of the con- 
sonant elements, let the elements be separated by the 
voice, from the rest of the word, for the particular pur- 
pose of contemplating the position of the organs of the 
mouth, informing them, and of thus ascertaining the means 
of increasing their force. Each element is separated 
by a horizontal line from the rest of the word, as 
TA-ou, &c. 

Though the consonant elements cannot be uttered with 
as much explosive force as the vowels, they are yet ca- 
pable of a considerable degree of it, and some of more 
than others. A distinct articulation requires a vigorous 
utterance of the consonants, as well as of the vowels. 
Many syllables are entirely composed of consonants, — 
the boundaries of syllables often consist of these ele- 
ments, — it must be evident therefore, that their forcible 
pronunciation must be essential to a distinct and audible 
utterance, through an extensive space. Indeed students 
may assure themselves, that if they do not exercise their 
voices, they will fail in their attempts to become audible, 
when addressing large assemblies, and that if barely au- 
dible, their delivery will be destitute of impressive ener- 
gy. On this account it will be necessary to practice the 
explosion of the consonant sounds alone. Let the student 
turn to the table and do this. 



36 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

The following are those on which he is to practice : 
A, d, g, i\ z, y, w, th (as in thou,) ng, Z, m, n, r trilled, r 
final. 

The consonants, with the exception of the mutes P, 
T, K, can all be prolonged in utterance without altering 
their distinguishing sounds, as vocal elements. But when 
they begin words or syllables, or make a part of them, 
(unless where they are the terminating elements of such 
words and syllables,) they seldom admit of prolongation. 
If they are prolonged improperly the pronunciation is dis* 
agreeable and affected* Many persons, nevertheless, un- 
consciously, acquire habits of this affected articulation. 
They will pronounce the word man almost as if it were 
written umman, (giving somewhat of the feeble sound of 
e, as heard in the word e-rr to the u, and dwelling on the 
sound of the m.) Again they speak the word no, almost 
as if written unno : swim as if written sooim : pluck as if 
written pulluck, &c. We subjoin a table of the elements, 
most commonly mispronounced in the manner described, 
and recommend the pupil to sound them once in the pro- 
longed and affected manner, which it is desirable to 
avoid. Students at college are apt to acquire the habit 
we have been describing. It is not unfrequent in the 
pulpit, and is often heard on the stage. Dr. Rush gives 
the following instance of the mispronunciation of a distin- 
guished actor. 

" Canst thou not, m-inister to a m-ind diseased, 
P/-uck from the w-emory a r-ooted sorrow." 

The effect of this mode of pronunciation will be de- 
monstrated to the ear, by giving the true elementary 
sounds in the table with considerable prolongation. 



CONSONANT SOUNDS, 



37 



TABLE. 



1 


b 


2 


d 


3 


f 


4 
5 
6 


g 

J 
1 


7 


m 


8 


n 


9 
10 


q 

r 


11 


V 


12 


w 


13 


y 


14 


z 


15 


h 



as in 



6-old. 
d-eign. 
/-ather. 
g-ather. 

Z-ight. 

m-an. 

n-o. 

5-ueer. 

p-r-ay. 

tf-ale. 

w-oe. 

y-ours. 

z-one. 

A-ane. 



Some of the consonants, however, occasionally re- 
quire to be lengthened when they occur as the termina- 
ting elements of words and syllables. The following is 
a table of those which most frequently require prolonga- 
tion, — in order to give a very distinct articulation and an 
emphatic or a solemn expression to the words or sylla- 
bles whioh they thus terminate. 







TABLE 




1 

2 
3 


b 
d 
1 


as in 


or-6. 
ai-cZ. 
a-ZZ. 


4 


m 




ar-m. 


5 


n 




OW-71. 


6 

7 


r 




SO-72g\ 

wa-r. 


8 


V 




sa-we. 


9 


z 




ama-z-e 



38 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



When two elements having the same sound occur, 
they cannot both be uttered without making a pause be- 
tween them. Where the elements are duplicated, if they 
admit of it, one is prolonged as in aZZeviate — annihilate 
— immediate. If the element is a mute or necessarily 
short, there is a perceptible stop to be made after it, as in 
at-tend — ap-pear, he. This stop is not however, to be so 
long as to produce afiectation. To avoid this the pro- 
longation or pause must not be extended farther than is 
necessary to absolute distinctness. This may be insured 
in the articulation under these circumstances without pe- 
dantry. 



TABLE OF CONSONANTS AND VOWELS : 

THE CONSONANTS BEING PLACED FIRST. 

The following consonant sounds which are all aspirates 
should never be prolonged beyond what is necessary to 
distinct articulation, /, s, A, wh, th, sh, ch. 

The student should exercise himself in uttering these 
alone, and in putting a sudden stop to the sound of each 
of them, the instant it has distinctly impressed the ear. 



TABLE. 



CONSONANTS. 

1 

2 
3 
4 
5 
6 



VOWELS. 



b 


1 


e 


as in 


d 


2 


a 




f 


3 







g 


4 


a 




h 


5 


e 




J 


6 


a 





e-rr. 

a-11. 

o-r. 

a-ge. 

e-dge. 

a-rm. 



CONSONANT AND VOWEL SOUNDS. 



39 



CONSONANTS. 




VOWELS. 




7 


k 


7 


a 


as in 


a-t. 


8 


1 


8 







o-ld. 


9 


m 


9 







oa-ts. 


10 


n 


10 


OU 




OU-Y. 


11 


P 


11 


ee 




ee-1. 


12 


q 


12 


i 




i-t. 


13 


r 


13 


00 




oo-ze. 


14 


s 


14 


u 




p-M-11. 


15 


t 


15 


oi 




b-oy. 


16 


V 


16 


i 




i-sle. 


17 


w 


17 


ew 




b-eau-ty 


18 


y 






19 


z 






20 


th 






21 


th(aspir't) 






22 


wh 






23 


sh 






24 


ch 1 











A few specimens of the sounds heard in the junction 
of some of these consonants and vowels, are here given 
as examples of the mode of uniting all the elements in 
practising on this table. 



I. 


bah. 


V. 


too. 


II. 


fee. 


VI. 


ye. 


HI. 


lie. 


vn. 


shah. 


tv. 


pou-r. 







No. I. of the above sounds is effected by uniting No. 
1 of the consonant table with No. 6 of the vowel : No. 
II. by uniting No. 3 of the consonant table with No. 1 1 
of the vowel : No. III. by uniting No. 8 of the conso- 
nant table widi No. 16 of the vowel ; No. IV. by uniting 
No. 11 of the consonants with No. 10 of the vowels : 
No, V. by uniting consonant No. 15 with vowel No. 13 : 



40 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



No. VI. by uniting No. 18 with 11 : No. VII. by uniting 
No. 23 with No. 6. 

In the use of the foregoing table let every consonant 
(except the mutes and aspirates) be considerably protract- 
ed, and then exploded without pause upon every vowel, 
the vowels not being protracted more than is necessary to 
their simple articulation. Let the mutes k, p, t, be ex- 
ploded with force upon each vowel. Afterwards let each 
consonant (except the mutes) be shortened as much as 
possible and exploded upon the vowels, the vowel sounds 
(with the exception of the short ones) being lengthened 
as much as possible in their articulation. This exercise 
will familiarise the ear with their sounds and will shew 
what may be, and what ought to be done in pronouncing 
them. 



TABLE OF VOWEL AND CONSONANT 
SOUNDS: 

THE VOWELS BEING PLACED BEFORE THE CONSONANTS, 

Their union will make the compounds which are to 
furnish the exercises of this table. 



TABLE. 



VOWELS. 



e 


as in 


e-rr. 


1 


a 




a-11. 


2 


o 




o-r. 


3 


a 




a-ge. 


4 


e 




e-dge. 


5 


a 




a-rm. 


6 



CONSONANTS, 

b 
d 



g 
J 
k 



VOWEL AND CONSONANT SOUNDS. 



41 





VOWELS. 






CONSONANTS. 


7 


a 


as in 


a-t. 




7 


1 


8 







o-ld. 




8 


m 


9 







oa-ts. 




9 


n 


10 


ou 




ou-v. 




10 


P 


11 


ee 




ee-1. 




11 


r 


12 


i 




i-t. 




12 


s 


13 


00 




oo-ze. 




13 


t 


14 


u 




p-w-U. 




14 


V 


15 


oi 




b-oy. 




15 


X 


16 


i 




z-sle. 




16 


z 


17 


ew 




b-eau-ty 




17 
18 


th 








19 


sh 








20 


ch 


VOWELS. 


CONSONANTS. SOUNDS 


Inion of No. 7 


with No. 


1 


make ab. 


10 




13 


out. 


1 
12 
17 




10 

3 

12 


up. 

if- 
use. 


1 




11 


err. 






3 




4 




°g- 



Directions for the use of the foregoing Table. 

1. Let each of the long vowels be protracted as much 
as possible, in combination with 6, d, g, Z, m, n, ng, r, v 9 
which are also to be protracted as much as possible, as 
awb, aid, ow J d, he. 

2. Let each of the short vowels be sounded with 5, d, 
g, I, m, n, ng, r, v, giving the utmost prolongation to the 
consonants, as, a-5, a-J, o-6, e-d> &c. 

4* 



42 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

3. Let the long vowels be sounded with/,/, k, j7, $, t 7 
v, oc.j z, th, sh, ch, giving as much prolongation as possible 
to the vowels, but not more than is necessary for distinct- 
ness to the consonants. 

4. Let the short vow T els be united with the last named 
consonants, let as much explosive force as possible be 
given to the syllables made by the junction, without more 
than usual protraction of either vowels or consonants. 

The practice upon these tables may be thought by the 
indolent somewhat irksome ; but the diligent student may 
assure himself that more is not required than he will find 
substantially useful in familiarizing his ear with the 
real sounds of his language, in giving him an intimate 
knowledge of their vocal capacity, and in obtaining a 
forcible and precise action of the organs of speech in 
the pronunciation of syllables. 



COMBINATIONS OF CONSONANT ELE- 
MENTS. 

As the greatest obstacles to a distinct articulation oc- 
cur in the pronunciation of the consonant elements, we 
proceed to construct a table of those elements in combi- 
nation with each other. We do this because it is in giv- 
ing precision and full force to each elementary sound, 
and in effecting the difficult and rapid changes which the 
utterance of a succession of these consonants requires, 
that a principal difficulty of articulation consists. Exer- 
cise in every kind of combination is therefore the proper 
remedy for an indistinct utterance. All the mere direc- 
tions in the world, whether found in books or out of them. 



CONSONANT SOUNDS. 



43 



will be of no avail : and if this grammar is to be useful, 
it will be so because it has deviated from the common 
track by insisting upon practice upon the elements : be- 
cause it leaves nothing to the student ; but puts before 
him, in black and white, a series of exercises which he 
is to practice with his voice, and which he is to practice, 
let it be repeated, until the one particular branch of the 
art over which it is the object of such exercises to give 
him a complete mastery, is attained. 

The articulation, in the use of these tables will, per- 
haps, at first, be somewhat stiff and formal ; as the teacher 
ought to insist on the exact pronunciation of every ele- 
ment contained in them in the order in which they are 
found : but if the organs of speech are diligently and 
perseveringly exercised in these difficult combinations, 
they will, by degrees, acquire facility as well as precision, 
grace as well as force : and in the end distinctness and 
ease will be united and permanently secured. Exact- 
ness and grace go together in other gymnastic exercises, 
in fencing, in riding, in boxing ; why should they not also 
be the result of the nobler gymnastics of the voice. 



TABLE OF CONSONANT SOUNDS. 



IN COMBINATION. 



Bd. bdst. I as in 

bl. bid. bldst] 

biz. blst. 
br. 

bs. bst. 
bz. 



or-6'rf, pro-6'(Pstf. 

a-We, trou-bVd, trou-bV(Fst, trou- 
pes, trou-bPst. 
Jr-and. 
ri-fo, rih-b'st. 
pro-6es. 



44 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



dl. did. dlz. 


as in* 


can-JZe, ban-dZ'd, can-dies, fon- 


dlst. 




dVst. 


dr. 




dr-ove. 


dz. 




dee-ds. 


dth. dths. 




biea-dth, brez-dths. 


fd. fdst. 




xee-fd, ree-f'd'st. 


fl. fid. fist. fiz. 




,/J-ame, tri-fi'd, tri-JTst, Xvi-fles. 


fr- 




/r-ame. 


fs.fst. 




fou-ghs, hu-gh^st. 


ft.fts.ftst. 




wa-ft, wafts, w&-f?st. 


fi- 




di#. 


gd. gist. 




br&g-ged, brag-g'd's*. 


gl gld. glz. 




gl-ow, h&g-gled, man-gles, man- 


gist. 




gVst. 


gr. 




gr-ave. 


gz. gst. 




pi-gs, WSrg'tt. 


jd. 




hed-ged. 


kd. 




ba-c&'d. 


kl. kid. klz. 




un-cle, Xm-cVd, truc-kles, truc-kl'st, 


klst. kldst. 




truc-M J d'st. 


kn. knd. knz. 




blao&en, blac-fei'df, b\&c-kens f 


knst. kndst. 




bl&c-ken'st, b\&c-ken'd f st. 


kr. 




cr-ouey. 


ks. kst. 




thin-fo, thm-k'st. 


lb. Ibd. Ibz. 




e-lbe, bu-lVd, bu-lbs. 


Id. Idz. Idst. 




ho-ld, ho-lds, ho-ld'st. 


lf.lfs.lft. 




e-lfi e-lfs, de-lft ware. 


!• 




bu-lge. 


Ik. Ikd. Iks. Ikt. 




mi-Ik, mi-Wd, s\-lks, mu-lct. 


Ikts. 




mu-lcts. 


Im. Imd. Imz. 




e-lm, whe-lm?d, whe-lms. 


In. 




h-lVn. 


Ip. Ips. Ipst. 




he-lp, he-lps, he-lp'st. 


Is. 1st. 




fa-Zse, fa-Wst. 


It. Itz. 




ie-lt, hdi-lts. 


Iv. hd. Ivz. 




she-fee, she-lv'd, e-lves. 


Iz. 




ba-lls. 


Ish. Ishd. 




ti-lch, fi-ZcA'rf. 



CONSONANT SOUNDS. 



45 



1th. Iths. 


as in 


hea-ftA, healths. 


md. 




ento-wA'd. 


mf. 




au-mph-ry. 


mt. mtz. 




Me-mpt, aXXe-mpts. 


mz. mst. 




to-mbs, ento-mb'st. 


nd. ndz. ndst. 




a-neZ, bdi-nds, se-nd'st. 


nj. njd. 




ra-n^e, ra-ng'c?. 


nk. nks. nkst. 




\hi-nk, thi-nks, thi-nk'st. 


nt. ntst. ntz. 




se-nt, wdi-ntfst, wa-nte. 


nz. 




5-715. 


nsh. nshd. 




fli-ncA, fti-ncttd. 


nst. 




wi-ric'd. 


ngd. 




ha-ng-'df. 


ngz. 




so-ngs. 


ngth. ngths. 
pi. pld. plz. 




stre-ngth, stre-ngths. 




pl-uck, xiip-pled, rip-pies, rip- 


plst. 




pVst. 


pr. 




pr-dij. 


ps. pst. 




cli-ps. nip-p'^f. 


rb. rbd. rbz. 




he-rbj ba-r&'d, he-rbs, ba-rb'st. 


rbst. rbdst. 




bz-rVd'st. 


rd. rds. rdst. 




ba-rrf, ba-nfo, hea-rcTstf. 


rf. rft. 




su-rf, wha-r/^d. 


rg. rgz. 




bu-rgA, bu-rghs. 


rj. rjd. 




ba-rge, u-rg'd. 


rk. rkt. rkz. 




ha-r&, bdi-rk-d, a-m, ba-r&V, 


rkst. rktst. 




bdi-rWd'st. 


rl. rid. rlz. 




sna-rZ, hu-rZ'd, sna-r/s, sna-rZ'stf, 


rlst. rldst. 




sndi-rVd'st. 


rm. rmd. rmz. 




a-ra, a-rm'rf, a-rms, a-rm'sf, 


rmst. rmdst. 




a-m'd'stf. 


rn.rnd.rnt. mz. 




bu-rn, bu-rn'rf, bu-rw^ u-nw,. 


mst. rndst. 




ea-rn'stf, ea-ni'ePstf. 


rp. rpd. rpz. 




ha-rp, ha-rp'e?, ha-rp. 


rs. rst. rstz. 




hea-rse, fea-r'stf, bu-rsfc. 


rt. rts. rtst. 




hea-rtf, hea*rfe, hu-r£V, 



46 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



sks 



rv. rvd. rvz 

rvst. rvdst. 
rx. root, 
rz. 

rch. rcht. 
rsh. 

rth. rths. 
sh. shd. 
sk. skd. 

skst. 
si. sld. 
sm. 
sn. 

sp. sps. 
st. str. sts. 
th. thd. 

thst. 
th. thm. 

ths. 
tl. tld. tlz. tlst. 

tldst. 
tr. 

tz. tst. 
vd. vdst. 
vl. vld. viz. vlst. 

vldst. 
vn. 
vz. 
vst. 
zl. zld. zlz. 

zlst. zldst. 
zm. zmz. 
zn. znd. znz 

znst. zndst. 
cht. 



thz 



thr, 



as in cu-rve, cu-rv'd, cu-rves, cu-rv'st, 

cu~rv J d J st. 
io-rks, ma-rkht. 
e-rrs. 

sea-rcA, sea-rcA'd. 
ha-r$A. 

hea-rth, hea-rths. 
sh-ip, pushed, 
mask, masked, masks, ma- 

sk'st. 
sl-ay, nes-t-Vd. 
sm-6ke. 
sn-ail. 

sp-a, whisps. 
st-arve, str-ong, busts, 
th-ine, wrea-th^d, wrea-ths, wrea- 

th'st. 
tfA-istle, rhy-thm, *Ar-ough, hea- 

ths. 
\it-tle, set-tied, bat-ties, set-tVst, 

set-tVd'st. 
rfr-avels- 

ha-ts, comba-f st. 
swer-u'd, \i-v'd'st. 
swi-vel, dri-veVd, dri-vels, dri-vePst, 

dri-veVd'st. 
dri-ven. 

Yi-v^st. 

muz-zle, mxiz-zVd, muz-zles, muz- 

zVst, muz-zVd J st. 
spa-sm, spasms, 
prison, imprisoned, prisons, im- 

prison'st, imprworWsrf. 
'fet-cAW. 



CONSONANT SOUNDS. 47 

Before the student proceeds to reading and declama- 
tion, we recommend that he should exercise himself upon 
the following short sentences. They are selected for the 
purpose of giving facility and precision of articulation in 
the use of the combinations in the foregoing tables ; and 
some of the most difficult combinations are frequently 
repeated in them. 

And surely never lighted on this orb, which she hard- 
ly seemed to touch, a more delightful vision. Burke. 

The evening was fine and the full orVd moon shone 
with uncommon splendor. 

'Till that a capable and wide revenge swallow them 
up. Shakspeare. 

He was incapable of a mean or questionable action. 

He was amiable* respectable, formidable, unbearable, 
intolerable, unmanageable, terrible. 

He was branded as a traitor. 

Thou proVst my wound, instead of healing it. 

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide. 

But Ruth clave unto her. 

Create a soul under the ribs of death. 

Gentlemen may cry peace. 

Can you say crackers, crime, cruelty, crutches. 

It was an affair of pic-nicks. 

It was the act of all the acts of government the most 
objectionable. 



* The syllables, ble, pie, cle, Szc. are hardly ever pronounced at 
the end of long words with sufficient distinctness and force, to be 
heard through an extensive space. 



48 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

The government of England is a mixed government. 

The spin-d/e and the loom. 

We saw on the road, large droves of cattle. 

His deeds speak his praise. 

The breadth thereof was ten cubits. 

What thou would, t highly, that wouldst thou holily. 

They next reefed the top-sails. 

If I quench thee thou flaming Minister. 

A frame of adamant — a soul of fire. 

No dangers fright him and no labors tire. 

He laughs at me. 

Thou lookst from thy throne in the clouds, and laugh* st 
at the storm. 

He begged pardon for having troubled the house so 
long. 

The glow-worm shows the matin to be near. 

The table groans beneath its burthen. 

Arm it with rags a pigmy straw will pierce it. 

Thou wagg'st thy tongue in vain. 

He was hedged in on every side. 

Racked with whirlwinds. 

Well done said my uncle Toby. 

Victory will weaken the enemy. 

Think? st thou so meanly of my Phocion. 

Where does the river Elbe arise ? 

We frequently saw the elk in our journey. 

Cry hold, hold. 

The wolf whose howl's his watch. 

I prefer the elm to the oak. 

FalVn, falVn, falVn, falVn, falVn from his high estate. 

There was no help for it. 



SENTENCES. 49 

He watch'd and wept, he felt and prayed for all. 

If this were a wilfully false account of Mr. Hastings, 
the author deserves the severest punishment. 

It was a species of calx which he shewed me. 

Halls of Assembly. 

The word filch is of doubtful derivation. 

Then if thou faWst, O ! Cromwell, thou falVst a 
blessed martyr. 

Health is indispensible to the soldier. 

Those who lie entombed in the public monuments. 

The attempt, and not the deed, confounds us. 

The tombs of our ancestors. 

But truth and liberty and virtue, would fall with him. 

The song began from Jove. 

Do you mem plain or playing cards? 

The range of the vallies is his pasture. 

He was the first ambassador sent from Colombia. 

Swords and pens were eagerly employed in its de- 
fence. 

I do not flinch from the argument. 

He never winced for it hurt not him. 

Mind you do not singe your gown. 

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow. 

Nipt in the bud. 

Thou found' st me poor at first and Jceep'st me so. 

The green herb was his food. 

We constructed an arc, and began our voyage without 
delay. 

The surf 'beat heavily. 

The word burgh signifies a town or city that sends a 
member or members to parliament. 

5 



50 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

The admiral's barge appeared first. 

The word earl originally was eorl the Saxon word for 
nobleman. 

Arm^ warriors, arm. 

Return \o thy dwelling, all lonely return. 

Weave the warp and weave the woof. 

Have you a copy of Smith's Thucydides. 

But he was to be stretched upon a bed of Procrustes. 

Droves of slaves manacled and tied together were sold 
in the market place. 

The heights, depths, and breadths of the subject. 

" That tear'st the bowels of thy mangled mate." 

I give my hand and my heart to this vote. 

Go starve and be forgotten. 

The road forks about a mile hence. 

He errs in his estimate. 

Search the scriptures. 

He was a harsh overseer. 

What fear'st thou. 

For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn. 

At the stern of the ship we saw a large dead fish 

floating. 

And he slew him. 

By the British constitution every man's house is his 
castle. 

This meteorous vapor is called will o' the ivisp. 

I thrust three thousand thistles through the thick of my 
thumb. 

Man wants but little here below, nor wants that little 
long. 

Foreign travel enlarges and liberalizes the mind. 



SENTENCES. 51 

He never swerved from his purpose. 

We lost our best swivel gun. 

Thou liv'st — liv'st did I say ? appear' st in the Senate. 

He was driven into the snare. 

The muzzles of their pieces were within a few feet of 
his breast. 

He was attacked with spasm of the heart. 

A prison with a good conscience, rather than a palace 
without it. 

The bells tinckled on the ear. 

He truckles to power. 

Thou chuckVdst over thy gains too soon. 

One extremity was pointed, the other bulbed. 

The bulbs should be immersed in rain water. 

The policy of this prince was to mulct the rich Jews. 

He mulcts his subjects. 

He holds his trust from the people. 

To the pert fairies and the dapper elves. 

Is this delft ware ? 

The costliest silks are manufactured there. 

Overwhelmed with whirlwinds and tempestuous fire. 

His kindness overwhelms me. 

He halts between two opinions. 

Your healths gentlemen. 

Earth that entomVst all that my heart holds dear. 

His attempts were fruitless. 

Hold off your hands gentlemen. 

The sounds of horses hoofs were heard at a distance. 

The songs of the Gondoliers alone broke the stillness. 

What wantfst thou ? 



52 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

They were wrenched by the hand of violence from a 
congenial soil. 

Their singed tops though bare, stand on the blasted 
heath. 

The strength of his nostrils is terrible. 

A gentle current rippled by. 

He barVd the dart by which he fell. 

Do you like herbs in your broth ? 

Thou barb'st the dart that wounds thee. 

Thou barb'd'st the dart by which he fell. 

Many arcs were seen floating down the stream. 

There barked and howled, within, unseen. 

The culprit was hurled from the tarpeian rock. 

Words, Words, Words! 

Are the goods wharf ed ? 

The burghs of Scotland. 

It was strongly urged upon him. 

Remark' d* st thou that ? 

Mark' st thou ? 

He snarls but dares not bite. 

Arm'd say ye ? Armed my lord. 

They have arms in their hands. 

The delinquent was burned in the hand. 

Wellington learnt the art of war under his brother in 
India. 

A boundless song bursts from the grove. 

It was a union of hearts as w T ell as hands. 

Earth's ample breast. 

He searched the house for it. 

It hurts me. 



SENTENCES. 53 

Thou hurfst his feelings. 

On entering the palace the busts of Fox and Tooke 
were conspicuous.* 



* It will be understood by the reader, that the superscribed sen- 
tences are merely intended to subserve the purpose of exercise of 
the articulating organs, and that therefore sense and connection 
have not been regarded in devising them. 



5* 



RECITATION FOURTH, 

Elocution is the art of so employing the Quality, 
Abruptness, Force, Time, and Pitch of the voice, in the 
utterance of syllables, as to convey the sense and senti- 
ment of discourse in the fullest manner, and with the 
greatest possible gratification to the ear. 

Each of these properties of the voice, (except ab- 
ruptness,) is exerted more or less in the utterance of 
every element or syllable. Every syllable is uttered by 
voluntary muscular effort, and therefore requires some 
force, for this is implied in all voluntary action. Every 
syllable consumes time in its pronunciation. Every ut- 
tered sound has pitch — finally a particular quality of 
voice, (apart from the before mentioned properties) will 
be apparent whenever a syllable is spoken ; for no two 
voices are exactly alike in quality. Abruptness means 
suddenness combined with fullness, and therefore may or 
may not accompany the utterance of a syllable. 

Hence the meaning of discourse and the impression 
made by it, will depend upon the relative degrees and 
modifications of the Quality, Abruptness, Force, Time, 
and pitch of the voice. 



GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 

QUALITY OF VOICE. 

The Quality of the voice, no doubt depends partly, 
on unknown circumstances in the structure and action of 
the organs of speech ; as the same tune played upon 



GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 

two organs or piano-fortes will differ in quality of 
tone, because one instrument differs from another in its 
peculiar power of modifying sound, owing to its physical 
properties as an instrument. 

The ancients employed a great number of terms to 
describe the quality of the voice. Its most important 
properties are gravity, or depth of tone ; fullness, or 
volume of sound ; smoothness, sweetness, and strength ; 
by which latter property is meant the power of render- 
ing syllables audible through an extensive space. There 
are other modifications of the quality of the voice which 
will be explained hereafter. 

FORCE OF VOICE. 

The degrees of Force are best described by the terms 
loud and soft, forcible and feeble, strong and weak. 
Force maybe manifested, 1st by loudness, and consequent 
violent impression on the ear, during a short impulse of 
sound ; or 2dly it may be continued equally through a 
long one : or 3dly it may be manifested by gradual in- 
crease, as when a sound increases perceptibly in volume 
during its progress as compared with its commencement, 
terminating at its loudest point, or again diminishing before 
it terminates. Suppose the element a (or any other syl- 
lable) uttered with great percussive force and quickness^ 
it will exhibit one modification of force. Suppose it to 
begin with less force, growing louder by degrees in the 
usual sense of the expression swell of voice, and then 
again gradually diminishing to its termination, and you 
have another modification of force. Again, suppose the 
voice to begin with comparative fullness and to lessen 



56 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

constantly in its volume till it dies away in silence, and the 
ear would be able to compare degrees of force under a 
third modification. Lastly, suppose the element a to be 
uttered in the usual manner except at its termination, but 
there to have a great and sudden increase of sound, and 
you have a modification of the element of force different 
from any of the preceding instances. 

TIME. 

The varieties of Time in the utterance of syllables are 
best expressed by the terms long and short, quick, slow, 
rapid, moderate. The most important general conside- 
ration as to the time of syllables is that it can be varied 
upon the same syllable. The term quantity, as applicable 
to syllables, means exactly the same as time. The time 
ot pauses, it is perfectly apparent, may be lengthened or 
shortened at pleasure. Suppose the sounds a, bee, cee, 
dee, (the names of the first four letters of the alphabet,) to 
be uttered in immediate succession, each sound to be 
shortened as much as possible and as short pauses as pos- 
sible to be made between each ; in such case each syllable 
will have short quantity, the pauses will have short time 
and the general movement will be in quick time. But 
the four sounds above mentioned can be greatly length- 
ened without altering their customary pronunciation. If 
a lengthened pronunciation is given to each, and the pauses 
between them are made about half as long as the time con- 
sumed in the pronunciation of each syllable (a, bee, cee, 
dee,) the whole series will be in slow time and each sylla 
ble will have long quantity. The term quantity is em- 
ployed absolutely and relatively. If a syllable is pro- 
nounced long, we may say with propriety it has quantity 



GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. ■) * 

absolutely : but we speak of quantity as a power inherent 
in the voice relative to syllables, because many of the vowels 
and consonants can (though many cannot) be pronounced 
long or short as mav be desirable : and the terms Ions; and 
short quantity describe the two cases of such syllables. 

We say, then of syllables that they are syllables of 
Quantity because they can be extended, or because they 
are actually extended in their pronunciation. We say of 
a passage that it has long quantity, meaning that the syl- 
lables and pauses are intentionally lengthened ; that it has 
short quantity because the syllables either do not admit of 
extension or are not extended. The pauses in all good 
delivery bear a proportion to the length of syllables. 

High on a throne of royal name.* 
High on a throne of royal name. 

Let the superscribed sentence be uttered with the ex- 
tremes of quick and slow time as already described and 
the nature of time or quantity as applicable to speech will 
be demonstrated. 

ABRUPTNESS. 

Abruptness means a sudden and full pronunciation of 
sound. In utterance it is best demonstrated in the ex- 
plosion of the vowels in the manner already described in 
the Recitation on Articulation. It is a power to be again 
treated of under the head of force, being a particular 
modification of that property of the voice. 



* The word name has been employed for illustration in this ex- 
ample, instead of state, on account of its quantity — as the word 
state is necessarily short. 



6S GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION 



PITCH. 

Pitch means the place of any sound in the musical scale. 
A person wholly unacquainted with pitch may obtain clear 
ideas of this property of sound from a piano forte. In 
running over a few of the keys, he will perceive that the 
sounds they yield differ from each other. Now this dif- 
ference consists in pitch. The different sounds are called 
notes. If a person strike the lowest key on the left hand 
and pass from that to the other end touching each key 
successively, he will observe as he goes on that each note 
rises in pitch until he reaches the most distant key on 
the right hand of the instrument. If an ear unaccus- 
tomed to compare varieties of pitch does not at once per- 
ceive the difference of the pitch of two notes next to each 
other, let him try two notes with one between them ; two 
notes with three between them ; two notes with six be- 
tween them. He will thus obtain an impressive notion 
of the nature of pitch from the varieties which these dis- 
tant notes present to the ear. The whole of the notes of 
a piano constitute a scale referred to by musicians. 

Pitch and inflection have been used as synonymous in 
their application to speech. Great care, however, is re- 
quired in order to obtain clear ideas of Pitch. 

If the finger be slid up and down the string of a violin 
with continued pressure, while the bow is drawn across it, 
a mewing sound will be produced. This sound will end 
at a higher or lower pitch than that at which it began, ac- 
cording to the direction of the movement of the finger. 
The sound produced is named in the science of speech a 
concrete or continuous sound, inasmuch as the change of 



GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 59 

pitch is without break, or takes place during a single im- 
pulse of sound. 

The term Concrete, etymologically considered, means 
grown together. It is derived from the verb concresco, 
concrescere, concrevi, concretum, " To unite or coalesce 
as separate particles into one body." {Webster.) The 
term concrete is intended to particularize the nature of 
the sound produced by the sliding motion of the finger on 
the string. That sound, as it differs in pitch at its two 
extremities, must of course be made up of distinct impul- 
ses differing in pitch ; but as each is too short in its dura- 
tion to be discerned by the ear, they may be said to be 
concreted together into one unbroken movement, which is 
properly enough named a slide. This slide when heard 
is perceived to rise or fall in pitch only as a whole, and is 
therefore called a concrete sound. Such a slide, rising 
or falling in pitch, is invariably made whenever a syllable 
is spoken, or in other words is inseparable from the act of 
speech. It is usually called the slide of the voice, and is 
more particularly designated by writers on Elocution the 
upward and downward slide. 

If while the bow is drawn across it, the string be press- 
ed on the board, say at every second of time, at certain 
points or places, rising one above another, determined by 
a previous known rule of mathematical calculation, the 
sounds of the common scale will be produced. The 
sounds thus produced may be called Discrete sounds. 

The term Discrete is derived from dis and cerno, to 
see apart, or to distinguish, to apprehend a difference in 
things. Discerno, discernere, decrevi, decretum. The 
term discrete is therefore employed to denote two or more 
separate sounds. The sounds of a piano forte, for in- 



GO GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

stance, will consist of discrete sounds. A succession of 
syllables, consisting of separate impulses, are a succession 
of discrete sounds, commencing at the same or different 
points of pitch from each other ; while the slides heard in 
the utterance of each syllable will consist of concrete 
sounds. Discrete and Concrete sound is therefore heard 
in all discourse, and both are inseparable from it. 

Discrete sounds consist of a series of skips. These 
are made by omitting the concrete or sliding movement 
previously described, produced by the motion of the finger. 

TTSTTTSTTSTTT S 

^8 — ©— 99 — 9 — 9 9 9 9 — 9 9 > # — •■♦- 

1 234 56 789 1011 12 13 1415 

The horizontal line drawn above represents the strings 
of the violin, the black dots the points, places, or degrees 
at which it is to be pressed to produce certain sounds. 
From 1 to 7 constitutes the series of sounds called the 
scale, each rising above the other. To this series of 
seven sounds a second series may be added of the same 
number, beginning immediately above the first; each 
sound in such second series bearing the same relation in 
pitch to every other sound in that series, which the cor- 
responding sound bears to every other in the first series. 
The letters put between the supposed places of sound 
represent the terms Tone and Semitone. Tone means 
a certain distance (mathematically determined) between 
the sounds ; — Semitone means about half that distance. 
Musical instruments in general, such as the piano forte, 
organ and others, produce only discrete sounds, or such a 
succession of sounds as is here represented. The vio- 
lin and other stringed instruments can produce both con- 



GENERAL CONSIDERATIONS. 61 

crete and discrete sounds. The human voice produces 
both. 

Each sound of the scale is called a note. The dis- 
tance between any two notes, whether next to each other, 
or more distant, is called an interval. The interval from 
1 to 2 is called a tone, from 2 to 3 a tone, from 3 to 4 
(being about half the distance) a semitone, from 4 to 5, 
from 5 to 6, and from 6 to 7 are tones, from 7 to 8 a semi- 
tone. The intervals are named numerically, that is, the 
interval from 1 to 2 is called a second, from 1 to 3 a 
third, from 1 to 4 a fourth, from 1 to 5 a fifth, from 1 to 
6 a sixth, from 1 to 7 a seventh, from 1 to 8 an octave. 
The intervals rise from 1 to 2, 1 to 3, 1 to 4 and so on, 
and fall in the same reverse order. Though the first 
seven sounds make up what is called the scale, the ear 
requires in order to form a satisfactory close, that the first 
of the second series, marked 8 and called the octave, (as 
before stated,) should be added, in running the voice up- 
wards or downwards, in the order of the scale, or in what 
is called in musical science solfaing. The first note of 
any series of sounds is called the key note. The succes- 
sion of the seven notes above described is called the natu- 
ral scale, because that succession is satisfactory to the 
ear. It is also called the Diatonic scale from Dia by or 
through, and Tonos a sound. The term melody (as ap- 
plicable to speech) in this Grammar, means the condition 
of single sounds and the order of successive sounds as 
respects the pitch. Concrete melody means the pitch of 
the slides of speech. Discrete melody the pitch at which 
successive syllables begin relatively to each other. Into- 
nation means the management of the voice in the produc- 
tion of pitch both concrete and discrete. 

6 



62 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



QUESTIONS. 

1 . How is Elocution defined ? 

2. What is meant by quality of voice? 

3. What are the most important properties of the voice 
with regard to quality? 

4. What is meant by force of voice? 

5. How are degrees of force expressed? 

6. What is meant by the time of the voice ? 

7. How are the varieties of time expressed ? 

8. What is the meaning of quantity as applied to the 
voice? 

9. Give an example of long quantity. 

10. Give an example of short quantity. 

1 1 . What is the meaning of abruptness as applicable 
to the voice ? 

12. How is pitch defined ? 

13. What is meant by the musical scale? 

14. What are the particular modifications of pitch in 
speech ? 

15. How are the degrees of pitch measured? 

16. How are the sounds of the scale produced? 

17. What is a note ? 

18. What is the meaning of interval ? 

19. What is the meaning of a tone ? 

20. What is a semitone? 

21. What are the different intervals of the scale called ? 

22. What is the key note ? 

23. What is the meaning of the term melody? 

24. What is concrete melody? 

25. What is discrete melody? 

26. What is meant by Intonation ? 



RADICAL AND VANISH OF SPEECH ()3 

RECITATION FIFTH, 

Of the Elements of Sound which enter into the concrete 
slide of the voice, when it is so managed as to give the 
greatest possible pleasure to the ear. 

We shall employ the letter /for the purpose of illustra- 
ting the slide of the voice. That element (as before 
stated) is a dipthong; being compounded of the opening 
sound of the element, and the obscure one of ee as heard 
at the beginning of the word £-ve, upon which latter 
sound it dies away into silence. If 7 be properly uttered 
alone in a deliberate but natural manner, as it would be 
in the sentence " I acknowledge him as my friend" it will 
open with some degree of abrupt fullness, will gradually 
lessen in volume as it proceeds, will terminate in a deli- 
cate vanish and will rise in pitch a tone or second during 
its slide. The circumstances to be displayed in this pro- 
cess and worthy of notice as elements of sound are, the 
force and fullness of the opening — the equable lessening 
of volume, the gradual change of sound from the opening 
pan of the element into the obscure sound of ee — the ex- 
tended quantity — the final termination of the progressively 
diminishing sound in a fine vanish upon the ee — together 
with the rise in pitch through the interval of a tone. 

The circumstances to which exclusive attention is next 
to be directed, are, the opening fullness, the gradually di- 
minishing volume, and the final vanish. The contrast of 
the two extremeties of the element, as to force or volume 
of voice, induced Dr. Rush, the ingenious discoverer of 
these circumstances, to give the name of radical, to the first 
part of the element, and vanishing movement to the second, 



64 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

— and he calls the whole movement which has been de- 
scribed a radical and vanishing tone. The terms need 
never confuse the mind; the radical, means the beginning 
of a syllable, while the vanish is employed to express its 
termination. This gradually lessening volume of sound 
upon syllables and exquisite vanish with which they ter- 
minate, contrasted with their opening fullness, are circum- 
stances which show the superiority of the human voice 
over all instruments. The full manifestation of the radi- 
cal and vanish in the management of the slides of long 
quantity, or in other words, in the utterance of long sylla- 
bles, in speaking, reading, and recitation, is in the highest 
degree captivating to the ear and is what gives smoothness 
and delicacy to the tones of the voice. In short sylla- 
bles,the differencd of the radical and vanish is perceptible 
though not so obvious. 

If the voice is destitute of the vanishing property it will 
sound coarse, harsh and heavy. On this account much 
practice ought to be insisted upon in order to acquire 
these agreeable elements of the slide of speech. 

We therefore subjoin a table containing a certain num- 
ber of alphabetic sounds, upon which it is important to 
exercise the voice with persevering assiduity. Under the 
head of quantity we shall subjoin a table of words, but the 
function described should be practised in the first place 
on alphabetic sounds. 

The long vowels shew the properties of the voice just 
described, in the best manner. Their opening can be 
rendered abrupt and full, their quantity can be extended ; 
they display the lessening volume of the voice, its final 
vanish, and change of pitch during its slide more obviously 
than any other elements. 



RADICAL AND VANISH OF SPEECH. 



65 



Let the elements in the following table be sounded as 
often as is necessary to acquire a full command over the 
use of the voice above described. 







TABLE. 




1 


a 


as in 


a-we. 


2 


a 




a-rm. 


3 


a 




a-ge. 


4 


i 




i-sle. 


5 







o-ld. 


6 


ou 




OU-Y. 


7 


00 




oo-ze 


8 


ee 




ee-\. 


9 


oi 




b-oy. 




The subjoined diagram may furnish a more obvious 
view of ihe process. 

A, the opening fullness. 

B, progressing quantity 
~ with diminishing vol- 
^ ume. 

C, vanishing point. 

The following consonants will display the property of 

the voice we have described, though not so perfectly as 

the vowels. 

lb 6 m 

2d 7 n 

3 g 8 r final 

4 ng 9 v 

5 1 10 z 

This subject will be resumed as respects syllables un- 
der the head of quantity. 

6* 



66 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 

OF THE SLIDES OF SPEECH. 

We stated that the letter I if sounded in a natural 
manner in the sentence, " I acknowledge him as my 
friend," rises a tone or second during its pronunciation. 
This may be proved by the use of the musical scale, thus. 
Let the letter be sounded with extended quantity, and 
let force be applied at its extremity so as to make the 
sound of the ee, (otherwise obscure,) very conspicuous, 
maintaining in all other respects the pronunciation the 
element had in the above mentioned sentence. If its 
two extremes be now compared, it will be seen that the 
end is a second higher than the beginning of the sound. 
The existence of a rising third,* fifth, and octave, and 
of the same falling concrete intervals, may be demon- 
strated in a similar manner upon the element J. 

The following is a scale shewing the intervals of the 
different slides. 




* Though the sounds of the natural or diatonic scale are dis- 
crete and are produced by omitting the mewing sound formerly 
described as issuing from the string of the violin, yet the term 
concrete interval may be properly enough employed to mark the 
distance between the commencement and the termination of the 
slides of speech when they strike those points of the scale at which 
the discrete sounds are heard : and a concrete movement, with a full 
r ecollection of its nature may be hereafter denominated a concrete 
interval of a second, third, fifth, and octave, or a semitone : and 
the slides through these intervals may be called notes of speech. 



RISING SLIDE. 67 

Let the lines in this scale, and the spaces between them 
be the places occupied by the notes. When measuring 
the intervals of these notes let these lines and spaces be 
counted in succession, thus, line 1 space 2, line 3 space 
4, and so on, whether we are counting upwards or down- 
wards. The first figure of the scale commencing on 
line 1, and reaching into space 2, represents a rising slide 
of a second, — the second figure a rising third, — the 
third a rising fifth, — the fourth a rising octave. The 
remaining figures represent in the order in which they 
appear on the scale a falling second, third, fifth and oc- 
tave. The intervals here enumerated are the only ones 
(with the exception of the semitones,) requiring atten- 
tion in the science of speech ; the slides of a fourth, 
sixth, and seventh, will therefore not be regarded in this 
grammar. 

The slide of a second upwards and downwards may 
be called the simplest slide of speech, while the others 
increase in intensity in proportion to the extent of the 
interval. 

Popular methods of determining the pitch of the slides 
of the voice, by the meaning or expression they convey. 

1. RISING SLIDE. 

It is not absolutely necessary to be acquainted with 
music in order to determine the nature of the slides 
used in speech or to be able to apply them correctly in 
discourse. Let the following sentence be uttered in a 
very deliberate manner, and with a perfectly distinct 
enunciation. " As soon as / arrived, he conducted me 
to his house." Let particular attention be given to the 



68 GRAMMAR OT ELOCUTION. 

sound of the c P. Then let that part of the sentence 
ending with ' V and including it, be uttered without the 
remaining portion, the voice breaking off after uttering 
that word, with the intonation a person would naturally 
employ, who was going to speak the whole sentence, but 
who was suddenly interrupted at the moment he had com- 
pleted the described section, " As soon as I:" — the ' F 
will in this case be found to have the rising slide of a 
second. Let the ' P be next pronounced alone with the 
same slide it had in the superscribed section of the sen- 
tence ; and the rising second cannot be mistaken after- 
wards. It is to be noticed that the intonation is such as 
to leave the ear in a state of suspense, and, (though the 
voice actually ceases,) to apprise the mind that all has not 
been said that was to be expected. Let it be farther 
remarked, that the ' J' conveys no expression of empha- 
sis, of emotion, or of interrogation, nothing more than the 
simple notion inseparable from the sound. 

More intensive slide of a third. Let the following 
sentence next be uttered as it would naturally be if the 
answer yes or no were expected to it ; all earnestness or 
emotion being excluded. " Did he say it was /that did 
it ?" If the question be so spoken as to convey merely 
the idea of simple enquiry, such as would require the 
answer " yes or no," or "he said it was you," the ' P will 
have the rising slide of a third. 

Intense slide of a fifth. But if the question be asked 
with some surprise, and with strong emphasis on the fP 
that syllable will have the rising slide of a fifth. " Did 
he say it was /?" 



FALLING SLIDE 69 

More intense slide of an octave. Let the emphasis be 
rendered still stronger upon the ' J,' and let the interro- 
gation be rendered still more piercing and expressive of 
excessive surprise, and the slide will reach through the 
rising octave. Children and females whose emotions are 
particularly lively, frequently ask a question with the in- 
tense piercing slide of the octave. 

2. FALLING SLIDE. 

Simple falling slide. If the imaginary sentence, 
" Good evening Mr. I." be uttered with the natural fall 
which the voice always assumes at the end of a common 
sentence, and without the least emphasis on the ' I ' con- 
veying an expression of antithesis, that word will display 
the falling slide of a second. 

If the sentence ' He said it was P be uttered with just 
such a degree of emphasis as will place the i P in antith- 
esis with you (understood,) it will exhibit the falling slide 
of a third. 

Intense downward slide upon the t /.' Let the empha- 
sis be made so strong as to express a considerable de- 
gree of positiveness upon that word, and the slide will fall 
through a concrete fifth. 

He said it was l P [not you.~] 

Most intense downward slide. Let the highest de- 
gree of dictatorial positiveness and energy be now given 
to the c I 5 and it may be made to reach the downward 
octave during its pronunciation. 

If a syllable be uttered with a plaintive expression it 
will have the slide of the semitone. In solfaing on the 



70 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

common scale, a plaintive expression is constantly heard 
when the third and fourth, or seventh and eighth notes 
are sounded in immediate succession ; and if the 
voice slide through the concrete interval of a semitone 
it will have a plaintive expression, whether it ascends or 
descends. The converse is true, or, in other words, 
whenever a plaintive expression is heard in speech the 
voice moves through the slide of a semitone. 

Let a plaintive or mournful expression be given to the 
word J, but to no other, in the following sentence, and 
that word will exhibit the rising slide of a semitone, the 
contrast of which with the slides of a tone, upon each of 
the other syllables, will be very striking. 

" /will be a good boy." 

Let the word " boy" be rendered plaintive or mournful 
with a fall of the voice, and it will show the falling slide of 
the semitone. 



CIRCUMFLEX SLIDES OR WAVES OF THE 
VOICE. 

The voice may rise and fall in its slide upon the same 
syllable. This rise and fall is called a Wave. If there 
are only two parts to the wave, that is, if the voice rises 
and falls only once in its slide, such rise and fall are called 
a single wave. If there are three parts and not more, 
that is, if the voice rises and falls and rises again, or falls 
and rises and falls again upon the same syllable the slide is 
called a double Wave. If there are more parts than three, 
the wave is called a continued Wave. 

If the rise and fall of the voice on a wave are through 



CIRCUMFLEX SLIDES. i 1 

the same interval, it is called an equal wave. If it rises 
first and then falls it is called a direct equal wave. If it falls 
first and then rises, an inverted equal wave. If the inter- 
val of the rise and fall of the voice upon a wave is not 
the same, it is called an unequal wave. If it rises first 
and then falls, a direct unequal wave : if it falls first and 
then rises, an inverted unequal wave. — See Philosophy of 
the Human Voice. 

EXAMPLES. 

" Hail ! holy Light." 

If the word " hail" is uttered with long quantity with a 
perceptible downward ending, and without any emphasis 
except that which arises from its prolongation, it will show 
the direct equal wave of the second. 

" High on a throne of royal state." 

If this sentence is uttered with extended quantity it 
will show the inverted equal wave of the second on the 
syllables "high," " throne," " roy." 

" I said he was ray friend." 

If this sentence is deliberately uttered, with very long 
quantity upon the " my" and an exclusive emphasis imply- 
ing that the person spoken of was not your friend — that 
word will show the direct equal wave of a third. 

If the answer is " your friend" and the word " your" 
is uttered with very long quantity, with a slight degree of 
surprise and an interrogatory emphasis, it will show the 
inverted equal wave of the third. 

If the sentence is reiterated " I said he was my friend," 
with a strongly positive emphasis on the "my" together 
with very long quantity, the direct equal wave of the fifth 
will be heard. 



1 1 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

By increasing the emphasis of surprise and making the 
interrogation more piercing, together with extended quan- 
tity upon the word "your" in the sentence, "your friend," 
accompanied with the former example, the inverted wave 
of the fifth will be heard. 

" I said he was my friend." If the word "my" is ut- 
tered with a strongly taunting and at the same time posi- 
tive expression, that word will show the unequal direct 
wave. 

If the word " your," in the sentence "your friend," is 
coloured strongly with scorn and interrogation, it may be 
made to show the inverted unequal wave. 

Practical Remark. — The degree of scorn will be in- 
creased by adding force to the wave ; and will bear a pro- 
portion to the extent and inequality of the slides which 
constitute it. 

The wave of the semitone remains to be mentioned. 
If suspensive quantity together with a plaintive expression 
is put upon the words " poor" and "old" — of the following 
sentence they will display the direct wave of the semi- 
tone. 

" Pity the sorrows of a poor old man." 

The word " man" may be made to display the inverted 
wave of the semitone by making it plaintive, with long 
quantity, and causing the voice to fall upon the second 
part of the wave. 



ELEMENTARY EXERCISES ON THE SLIDES 
OF THE VOICE. 

As a command over these elements of the voice is of 
the utmost consequence, and as the power of making the 



CIRCUMFLEX SLIDES. 



73 



deeper downward slides at will, is possessed by few per- 
sons, we subjoin a table of alphabetic sounds for exercise, 
and we recommend diligent practice upon them. 

Let the rising and falling slides of a second, third, fifth 
and octave be each in their turn shown upon the following 
elements : also the direct and inverted equal and unequal 
wares described above. 



1 


a 


as in 


2 


a 




3 


a 




4 







5 


ou 




6 


ee 




7 


00 




8 


oi 




9 


i 




10 1 


ew 





ii 


1 b 


12 


d 


13 


g 


14 


1 


15 


m 


16 


n 


17 


«g 


18 


r 


19 


V 


20 


z 



TABLE. 

a-11. 

a-ge. 

a-rm. 

odd. 

ou-r. 

ee-l. 

ov-ze. 

b-oy. 

i-sle. 

b-eat£-ty. 



I conclude this display of the slides of speech by re- 
commending a diligent practice upon the elementary ta- 
ble. These slides give conspicuous expression to sylla- 
bles. The downward slide is (as will be seen hereafter) 
one of the most striking means of emphasising words, of 
expressing positiveness of conviction, indignant resolution, 
and other affections of the mind, which cannot be con- 
veyed by mere writing, and of which the voice alone 
holds the true symbols. A discriminating perception of 
the difference of these respective elements of the voice, 
and a full command over them will be best attained by 
the tabular exercises here enjoined. They should be 
frequently repeated, and not abandoned until the objects 

for which they are instituted are accomplished. 

7 



74 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

QUESTIONS TO RECITATION FIFTH. 

L What are the circumstances worthy of attention in 
the consideration of the slide of speech ? 

2. What is meant by the radical and vanishing move- 
ment ? 

3. Let it be demonstrated in sounding the alpha- 
betic elements contained in page 65. 

4. A demonstration is required I. of a rising slide of a 
second ; II. of a third; III. of a fifth ; IV. of an octave ; 
V. of the falling slide of a second ; VI. of a third ; 
VII. of a fifth ; VIII. of an octave. 

5. The student is required to draw on a black board, 
and explain, a diagram, shewing these slides. 

6. The student is required to give an instance of the 
rising slide of a semitone, — of a falling slide of the same. 

7. How is a rising second popularly distinguished from 
a rising third ? 

8. How is a third distinguished from a fifth ? 

9. How is a fifth distinguished from an octave ? 

10. How is a falling second known ? 

11. How is a falling third distinguished ? 

12. How is a falling fifth known ? 

13. How is a falling octave known ? 

14. The student is required to give an instance I. of 
the direct equal wave of the second ; II. of a third ; III. 
of a fifth ; IV. of an inverted equal wave of a second ; 
V. of a third ; VI. of a fifth ; VII. of a direct unequal 
wave ; VIII. of an inverted unequal wave ; IX. of a 
wave of the semitone. 

15. The student is required to demonstrate these va- 
ried intervals on the superscribed table — alone, or in 
class. 



RECITATION SIXTH. 



RADICAL PITCH. 

We have now given an account of the slides of speech, 
and have shown the method of determining the pitch of 
any slide, or in other words the distance in point of pitch 
from its commencement to its termination ; and we have 
seen that the expression conveyed is invariably effected 
by the extent of the slide. The student now perceives 
that the change of pitch in the slide, is strictly concrete 
and takes place during a single impulse. 

We are now to speak of pitch and its varieties as deri- 
ved from a comparison of different impulses. Now in 
comparing the pitch of different syllables with each other, 
the comparison is of a series of successive impulses, and 
in estimating their relative pitch, we must disregard their 
slides and compare them with each other exclusively, at 
their commencing points. We thus ascertain the discrete 
pitch of syllables with reference to each other. The be- 
ginning of a syllable always makes a greater impression 
on the ear, than the part of the slide which follows. This 
is best proved by sounding one of the long vowels. 

If a, i, or o, be opened with fullness and distinctness, 
and be uttered with smoothness and extended quantity, it 
will be perceived that the volume of the voice lessens, 
(as we have before observed) during the slide, and that 
it ends in a delicate vanish at the termination of the syl- 
lable where sound and silence may be said to meet. This 
lessening volume of sound takes place in the utterance 



76 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 

of short syllables, but owing to their shortness it is not as 
perceptible. This difference of the opening and termin- 
ation of syllables it was, which induced Dr. Rush to call 
the one the radical and the other the vanishing part of the 
syllable, and in our future remarks when we refer to the 
pitch at which syllables BEGIN as compared with other 
syllables, we shall employ the term RADICAL pitch to 
distinguish it from the pitch of their respective slides or 
concrete pitch. In considering the combinations of Me- 
lody arising from the difference in the radical pitch of 
syllables, we shall consider each syllable, in the examples, 
as having the rising slide of a tone, except when other- 
wise specified. 

Particular combinations of Melody arising from special 
differences in the radical pitch of syllables. 

When in a succession of two syllables, the beginning 
of the second rises a single tone above the beginning of 
the first, the combination is called a rising ditone, be- 
cause it includes two syllables, the second rising a tone 
above the first. 

A rising ditone may be exemplified upon the sounds { <\ 

When in a succession of two syllables, the beginning 
of the second falls a tone below the beginning of the first, 
the combination is called a falling ditone- — because there 
are two syllables of which the second falls below the first, 

This may be exemplified upon the sounds i . 

A succession of three syllables in which the second 
begins a tone above the first, and the third a tone above 
the second is called a rising tritone ; because three sylla- 
bles are included in the combination rising in the order 
described. 



RADICAL PITCH. 77 

Arising tritone maybe exemplified upon the sounds a i ° m 
When four or more syllables follow each other of which 
the couplets rise and fall a tone alternately, the combina- 
tion is called the alternate phrase of melody. The fol- 
lowing sounds, and their arrangement, will exemplify the 

alternate phrase. a i 

When two syllables, or any greater number follow each 
other, beginning at the same pitch, the combination is 
called the phrase of the monotone. The following sounds 
may be employed to exhibit the monotone, a, e, i, o. 

When three syllables follow each other of which the se- 
cond begins atone below the first and the third a tone below 
the second, the third having a downward slide of a tone, 
the combination makes the triad of the cadence. A 
cadence produces the same satisfactory effect upon the 
ear, at the close of a sentence, w T hich the key note does 
at the end of a tune. The combination above described, 
is called a triad because it is effected by three syllables, 
and a cadence because it possesses the properties of a per- 
fect close. 

A cadence may be exemplified upon the following 

sounds. a 
i 
b 

All the combinations above described, occur in the 
following sentence. They are called phrases of melody. 

But from the tomb the voice of na - ture cries. 



r#£®^-^ 



-4T— 9L 



*r ^ T 



-*- 



MONOTONE. RIS. BITONE. ALTERNATION. 

7* 



78 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

And in our ash - es live their wont - ed fires. 




RISING TRITONE. FALL. DITONE. TRIAD OF THF CADENCE. 

In addition to the above described discrete intervals 
of speech, successive syllables differ from each other at 
their commencing points in the following respects, as 

Discrete rising thirds, fifths, and octaves. 

Discrete falling thirds, fifths, and octaves. 

We need not consider other intervals in the science of 
speech. 

SIMPLE MELODY OF SPEECH. 

Some portions of discourse, consist of plain thought. 
Things are described as they are in themselves, not as 
related to us as beings susceptible of emotion. In those 
parts which are restricted to such description, and in 
which no word has emphatic import above another, the 
melody of the second, as respects both slide and radical 
pitch, is alone required. In other words, every syllable 
should be restricted in its slide to the interval of a tone, 
and no two successive syllables should differ, in radical 
pitch, more than a tone from each other. If other inter- 
vals are introduced, the syllables on which they occur, 
acquire a prominence and peculiarity, w T hich break up 
the order, and disturb the natural expression of the sim- 
plest form of discourse. There must, therefore, always 
be a definite and assignable reason, in the nature of the 
ideas, to justify a departure from the simple melody of 
speech. 



SIMPLE MELODY OF SPEECH. 79 

In the use of this melody, the syllables consist for the 
most part, of a series of rising slides, except under par- 
ticular circumstances, or at the close of a passage. 

The falling slide shuts up the sense at the last syl- 
lable of a cadence. Sometimes a falling tone is intro- 
duced in other cases where the sense is comple- 
ted, but where a cadence is not required. The prece- 
ding diagram exhibited an instance of the use of the sim- 
ple melody of speech. By inspecting it, it will be seen, 
that, though we are limited to the use of the discrete 
and concrete rise and fall of a tone, in that species of 
melody appropriate to the simplest form of discourse, 
great provision is made in its respective phrases for agree- 
able change. The simplest form of speech, is therefore not 
necessarily monotonous : on the contrary, it may be al- 
most infinitely varied. The following diagram will show, 
that, so long as the conditions of this melody are main- 
tained, that is, that no syllable exceed the slide of a tone, 
and that no two proximate syllables differ from each 
more than a tone at their respective commencing points, 
its order may be changed without injury to the sound of 
the sentence. 

But from the tomb the voice of na - ture cries. 



WZjjjf W y~ *y WL wt 



-V- 



And in our ash-es live their won- ted fires. 




The phrases of melody as exhibited in the first dia- 
gram, only show the possible combinations as they 



80 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

exist in the nature of the simple melody, but so long as 
an agreeable variety is maintained as respects the ear, 
there is no prescribed order for their use. The sentence 
now twice exhibited in the diagrams, might undergo 
other changes in the setting of the syllables without percep- 
tible injury to the general melody of the whole. It is to 
be farther observed, that though no two successive sylla- 
bles are to differ more than a tone at their commencing 
points from each other, there is ample provision in the 
varied phrases for allowing of the movement of the voice, 
when necessary through its whole compass. 

The following diagram will show what we mean. 

But yonder comes rejoicing in the east,thepow > rJ % lKingqfday. 





fif er 


<r m ft ef 


mfirw *v m w m 


w mm c ^ ^ 


w * m , 



Here the simple melody is preserved, but the voice 
has traversed a range of five tones of the diatonic scale, 
and there is nothing in the nature of the melody to hinder 
it from passing in its compass through double that num- 
ber, in giving utterance to a long sentence. We are, 
therefore, never compelled to employ wider intervals 
than a tone, (which bring with them their own peculiar 
expression,) merely to gratify the ear by a varied 
melody. 

Variety is still farther consulted, both as respects sense 
and melody in the ordering of the cadence with which 
sentences may terminate. 

The first form of cadence is that already shown in the 
diagrams. In this form the fall of the voice is made on 



FORMS OF CADENCE. 81 

three successive syllables, the last of which falls a tone in 
its slide. The radical or opening portion of each of 
these syllables, is heard in three distinct impulses. On 
this account the close is very perfect, as every step of the 
descent is strongly impressed by the full radical (which is 
always the loudest part of a syllable) upon the ear. 

Another form of cadence is presented in the following 
diagram. 



Awake ! 


arise! or be for -e-ver fallen! 


^ 


•vi^ 


*~*"\ * V * 


.^g ^p 





The cadence is here completed, as the diagram de- 
monstrates, upon two syllables. The first moves through two 
tones, by a falling slide ) the second begins at the end of 
that slide and then slides in its turn, through a falling tone. 
The first syllable of this cadence, being susceptible of 
long quantity can be extended through an interval of two 
tones and the second sliding through another tone makes 
the proper fall in this instance. But the forcible opening 
of only two syllables, instead of three is heard, and there- 
fore, as the ear will perceive, the close is less complete. 

The same general remarks apply to the following form, 
in which the cadence, as in the last instance, is made upon 
two syllables, with this difference however from it, that 
the voice falls through two tones upon the second syllable 
instead of the first. 

To thee I call. 



M — g 



-€^- 



82 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



Here the close is also inferior in completeness to that 
of the first form of cadence. 

Another form still remains to be explained. In this, 
the fall is made upon a single syllable, the last of the 
sentence, which falls through three tones. The radical 
body therefore, of a single syllable only is heard in this 
form of cadence. The first may be considered as con- 
sisting of three very distinguishable impulses ; the second 
two forms of two ; the last must be considered as consist- 
ing only of one. On this account the present is the 
weakest form of cadence ever employed. Dr. Rush has 
denominated it the feeble cadence. It is shown upon the 
word tolls in the following example. 

The cur - few tolls. 



If the voice falls upon the last syllable of a sentence 
more than a radical second, it will make a "false cadence. 
This always disappoints the ear, and should be carefully 
avoided. The following diagram will exhibit a false ca- 
dence. 

He expired in a vict' 'ling house , which , 7 hope , I shall not. 



m w w * 



MUSZ—M- 



In order to obtain a clear perception of the peculiar 
expression of the Simple Melody of Speech, let the fol- 
lowing sentence be employed. 

" A man by the name of Job, lived in the land of Uz." 
Let each word be spoken with the rising slide of a tone. 



SIMPLE MELODY OF SPEECH. 88 

so slowly, that its precise melody can be distinctly ob- 
served by the ear. The melody of the slides of the long 
syllables, will be easily recognized, and the short ones 
may be somewhat drawled, so as to display theirs. After 
the melody of the slides has been distinctly ascertained, 
let the sentence be read, in a natural manner, with an 
occasional rise and fall of a tone in radical pitch, and the 
expression of the simple melody will be made manifest to 
the ear. After the unobtrusive expression of this form 
of melody has been duly apprehended, any departure 
from it, except for the definite purpose of giving to a syl- 
lable or syllables some special meaning, will be offensive. 
Disagreeable habits of utterance, as respects pitch, often 
consist in violations of this melody, without appropriate 
cause. These will be pointed out under the heads of 
" Principles of Criticism," and " Faults in Reading and 
Speaking." As we have already shown, a variety of ra- 
dical pitch is perfectly compatible with the simple form 
of melody. The most common fault in its use is the 
unvaried or too frequent use of the monotone. 

Monotony, besides its directly disagreeable effect upon 
the ear, deprives a discourse of all vivacity and ap- 
pearance of feeling. On this account, it shuts up 
the sympathies of an audience, and when excessive, is a 
most effective means of destroying their attention. It is 
not to be expected that the varied phrases of melody can 
be intermingled in a regular order, or by special choice, 
at die ordinary rate of reading and speaking ; but if very 
small sections of sentences are slowly read at a time, 
subject to the correction of the student's own, or of a 
teacher's ear, with a view to the employment of a varied 
melody, in time, and by perseverance, the delivery will 
be freed from all disagreeable monotony. 



84 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

To attain this object, the student should acquire a clear 
perception of the effect of the falling ditone, and a com- 
mand over its use, so that it may frequently play among 
the syllables of discourse. Such a use of the falling 
movement, with an exact observance of emphasis, will di- 
versify the melody of speech sufficiently to render it 
agreeable * 

When the proximate syllables are not uniformly mono- 
tonous, or so frequently alike in pitch, as to tire the ear, 
there is often another species of monotony produced by 
formal returns of the same phrases of melody at certain 
perceptible intervals of time. Their return may be con- 
stantly anticipated by the ear, and produce what may 
be termed the singsong style of delivery. Such for- 
mal habits of intonation often injure the style of com- 
position as well as of speech, as the structure of senten- 
ces is regulated to meet them. The style of Dr. John- 
son is so constructed as to favor the formal melody here 
condemned; and his monotonous imitators, for a long time, 
shut up the current of free thought in their artificial clau- 
ses, and threatened destruction to the flowing harmony 
and expansive energy of English prose. 

The following is a striking example of the formal con- 
struction we have alluded to. 

11 Homer was the greater genius ; Virgil the better art- 
ist : in the one, we most admire the man ; in the other, 
the work. Homer hurries us with a commanding impe- 
tuosity ; Virgil leads us with an attractive majesty. Ho- 
mer scatters with a generous profusion ; Virgil bestows 



* Frequent and careful practice upon the Diagrams will enable 
the student to discern and employ the falling ditone. 



MELODY AT PAUSES. 85 

With a careful magnificence. Homer, like the Nile, 
pours out his riches with a sudden overflow ; Virgil, like 
a river in its banks, with a constant stream. And when 
we look upon their machines, Homer seems, like his own 
Jupiter in his terrors, shaking Olympus, scattering the 
lightnings, and firing the heavens ; Virgil, like the same 
power in his benevolence, counselling with the Gods, lay- 
ing plans for empires, and ordering his whole creation." 

Such a method of writing naturally draws the voice in- 
to a repetition of the same combinations of pitch, or in 
other words, into formal returns of the same intonation at 
the different sections responding to each other. 

A variety of other examples might be given if our 
subject were Rhetoric and not Elocution, but the super- 
scribed instance may be sufficient to induce us to be upon 
our guard against the monotony to which such formal 
composition naturally invites. We believe a wakeful an- 
ticipation of the effects of style on the ear, in actual de- 
livery, is necessary, or at least, is greatly assistant to the 
art of harmonious writing. If this is true, a person who 
understands elocution must possess a great advantage over 
one who is ignorant of its principles. 

Monotony at pauses. Monotony will be particularly 
obtrusive at successive pauses, because the ear is invited 
by them to notice any striking return in the order of the 
pitch. Such a return frequently takes place where a 
series of commas suspend the sense. In this case, the 
syllable occurring before the pause is generally heard as 
a high note, sometimes from its constantly rising a third in 
radical pitch, which renders the recurrent note very con- 
spicuous, and at others from the unvaried use of the rising 

8 



86 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 

ditone, which though not so conspicuous as the rise of a 
third, becomes from constant use a tiresome monotony. 
In the use of the three phrases (the rising and falling di- 
tone and monotone) there are ample means for variety at 
pauses. They should be used in such succession as to 
prevent any regular return of the same impression on 
the ear. Sometimes a particular preference of one of 
the phrases of melody over others at a pause is required 
by the sense. We know that a rising slide suspends the 
sense more than a falling one. Where a separation of 
parts is made by a pause, the connection of sense is most 
intimately preserved by the use of the rising ditone, that 
connection is somewhat more severed by the monotone — 
still more by the falling ditone. If with any one of these 
respective phrases however, the voice is suspended by 
the rising slide, the dependence of sense is preserved. 
Sometimes however (as we have just observed) the sense 
requires, though not very often, a preference of one par- 
ticular phrase over another. In the following instance we 
think the falling ditone is best employed upon the sylla- 
bles " angel," and the latter of the two to have the rising 
slide ; while at " desire," the rising ditone, with the ri- 
sing slide upon the second syllable, seems the best order 
of melody. 

Fair An - gel, thy de - sire, which tends to know 



m. * * 



the works of God, doth mer - it praise. 



MELODY AT PAUSES. 87 

" Fair angel" is a separate proposition, and though so 
connected with what follows, as to require the rising 
slide, is best separated from it by the severing effect of 
the falling ditone ; but the word " desire, 5 ' though requi- 
ring a pause after it, is so intimately connected with the 
verb " doth merit," from which it is disjoined by the in- 
tervening proposition, as to require the additionally sus- 
pending effect of the rising ditone. The falling ditone 
at "Angel," the rising ditone at " desire," and the mono- 
tone at " God," will be perhaps the best melody that can 
be employed in this sentence. Where, however, special 
reasons do not exist for the employment of particular 
phrases of melody, they should succeed each other in such 
variety as to prevent all sense of formal returns of note. 

Inexperienced readers often use the rising slide where 
the sense is so far detached from what follows, as to re- 
quire the falling one. In cases where the falling slide is 
required, but without a full close, the sense generally is, 
or ought to be, shown to be completed by the semicolon 
or colon. The following example will illustrate my 
meaning. It is taken from the Paradise Lost, Book 6th. 

11 Gladly then he mixed 
Among those friendly powers ; who him received 
With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
That of so many myriads fallen, yet one 
Returned not lost." 

Many persons would use the rising slide at " powers." 
The distinctness of the propositions of the angel's joining 
his ancient friends, and of their receiving him in a parti- 
cular manner, are, however, in my opinion, such as to 
justify the use of the falling slide at that word, notwith- 
standing the succeeding relative " who." 



88 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

When in such cases as the one above stated, a student 
is requested to correct himself by using the falling slide, 
he is very apt to do so with a full fall of the voice, using 
some form of the cadence as he does at a full stop. Now 
what is wanting in such instances as the one cited, is a 
falling slide, with a higher note and a short pause. The 
rising ditone, with a falling slide, and a quick passing on 
of the voice to what follows, after a pause just perceptible, 
will fulfil the requisition of the mind and the ear. 

A nice ear will perceive the advantage in other sections 
of sentences, where the period is not required, in using the 
monotone, and falling ditone, with the falling slide. We 
apprehend the former may be best employed on the word 
" Supreme," and the latter on the words "was heard," in 
the following sentence. 

On to the sacred hill 
They led him high applauded, and present 
Before the seat Supreme ; from whence a voice, 
From midst a golden cloud thus mild was heard : 
Servant of God, well done. 

The note will be perceived to be lower at " Supreme," 
as compared with what precedes, than it was at " pow- 
ers," in the former example ; and the " heard" will come 
upon the ear with more of a fall than is employed at " Su- 
preme," though here there is not a full fall of the voice. 
These are nice points, and may be passed over by those 
who deem them unimportant. Others, however, will 
perceive that if a cadence is used at the w T ord "heard," 
instead of the falling ditone, as explained above, the 
sense will be too much separated from what follows. 

A general and popular direction for the management of 



MELODY AT PAUSES. 89 

loose sentences may be given in some such terms as these. 
When the sense is complete grammatically, but yet in- 
timately connected with what follows, let the falling slide 
be used, but without dropping your note upon the last 
syllable. In other cases where there is a wider separa- 
tion of sense, but still a dependence of parts, let the voice 
fall, but not with a full close. The falling ditone will ef- 
fect this object. An independent sentence, alone, re- 
quires a full close, which is to be effected by some form 
of the cadence. Sometimes when students employ the 
rising slide improperly, and are corrected, they run into 
the opposite error of making a full close. The remarks 
we have made are intended to remove the difficulty they 
experience in effecting the right inflection. Persons 
who cannot employ the variety above described, in the 
management of their pauses, never read Milton well. 

It may be farther observed that the length of the pau- 
ses must be regulated by the greater or less intimacy of 
connection of the parts which they separate. An exact 
analysis of the sense of an author, will much contribute to 
a correct use of pitch, both concrete and discrete at the 
pauses of discourse. 

A perceptible return of the same note at the ends of the 
lines in reading rhyme is to be carefully avoided. This 
species of monotony is particularly noticed by die ear on 
account of the recurrence of the measure and the sounds. 
The phrases of melody, and the different forms of ca- 
dence, supply ample materials for a constant variety. 
Here a popular direction of practical utility may be 
given in intelligible, if not in philosophical terms ; avoid 
the same note at recurrent pauses ; avoid it especially in 
rhyme. 

8* 



90 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



Two examples are here given of the melody of pauses? 
with the variety recommended. If the effect of the 
scoring in this and the preceding diagrams, is carefully 
impressed on the ear, a perception of the right use of 
pausal melody will be obtained. 



On the thirtieth of June, one thousand six hundred and eighty 



mm 



■t m w 



five, the Earl of Argyle was bro't from the cas - tie, first 



rrrr ^ -y 



w m m 



to the Low Council House, and thence to ih e place of cx-c-cu-tion. 



*'■ 'W ¥ «r y«w « ry - 



On Lin 


- den when the sun was 


low, 






§tf ^f ^f 


^<- 


W * * ai mi 


~™ 





All bloodless 


lay 


the un - 


tfod- 


- den 


snow, 


...... 

\ 


I 


m 


w 


w 


<& ir *r 


jg. 


«r 


•H 









MELODY AT PAUSES. 



91 



And dark 


a? 


win - ter 


was the flow 


1 


I 








atr if- w 


w * 




W W' 9 



Of 


I - ser, roll - 


ing 


ra - 


pid - 


b. 




*r **' 




* m * 


* 


* 


af 




~ 



On the subject of closes of the voice, we may remark, 
by way of recapitulation, that a complete separation of 
sense between the parts of discourse, requires the cadence. 
Some persons never make a cadence and thus deny all re- 
pose to the ear. You look up at the end of a discourse to 
assure yourself they have concluded, for the voice gives 
no notice of it by a perfect fall. The effect of the ca- 
dence, when properly introduced, is always grateful ; and 
the converse is true, the ear is always disappointed when 
it is denied to it at proper places. Persons who desire 
to captivate the ear by the finished graces of discourse, 
must acquire a ready command over the fall of the voice. 
The effect of this can scarcely be described, but it is 
powerfully felt in all speaking of a serious character. A 
public speaker can scarcely be eloquent without it. 

The different forms of the cadence which we have 
described, will enable the reader and speaker to make a 
selection. The triad separates most; the form consisting 
of two syllables less ; and that of a single syllable, the 



92 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

least; then succeed, in regular order, the falling ditone, 
the monotone, and the rising ditone, each having the fall- 
ing slide upon the last syllable. 

From what has been stated, it will be evident that dis- 
course can seldom continue long in the melody appropri- 
ate to simple thought ; melodic emphasis, interrogation 
and emotion being excluded from it. But if it be pre- 
served where it ought to be, other intervals when requi- 
red will come with all the advantage arising from proper 
contrast, and will on that account, represent with audible 
precision, the ideas they ought to convey. But if thirds, 
fifths, and the higher waves, equal and unequal, are intro- 
duced without assignable cause, into discourse, the sus- 
ceptibility to their impression, when they are required, is 
necessarily weakened. The beau ideal of melody con- 
sists in the use of the simplest form, (that of the second,) 
for the expression of plain thought, and in reserving the 
higher intervals, entirely for the purposes of giving ex- 
pression to words which are emphatic or display emotion. 
Those intervals constitute the strong lights and shadows 
of discourse, and should follow not as the result of faulty 
and indefensible habits, but from the order of its ideas 
and sentiments. 

There are two phrases of melody, which if predomi- 
nant in discourse, give it a peculiar expression. These 
phrases are the alternate phrase, and the monotone. The 
first is most appropriate to lively subjects, the latter, uni- 
ted with quantity, to all grave and solemn ones. 



QUESTIONS. 93 

QUESTIONS TO RECITATION SIXTH. 

1. What is meant by radical pitch, as opposed to con- 
crete pitch ? 

2. How is a rising ditone formed? 

3. Furnish an example. 

4. How is a falling ditone formed? 

5. Furnish an example. 

6. How is a rising tritone formed ? 

7. Furnish an example. 

8. How is an alternate phrase formed ? 

9. Furnish an example. 

10. How a monotone ? 

11. Furnish an example. 

12. How is the triad of the cadence formed? 

13. Furnish an example. 

14. The student is required to score out the sentence, 
page 77 on the black board. 

15. What conditions of pitch belong to the simple 
melody of speech, and to what portions of discourse is it 
limited ? 

16. What is the most prevalent defect in the use of 
that melody ? 

17. What are the provisions for avoiding it? 

18. What are the different forms of cadence ? 

19. Score an example of each upon the black board. 

20. What is the peculiar effect of the rising slide in 
expression ? 

21. What of the falling ? 

22. What is the special effect of the cadence in ex- 
pression ? 

23. What are the circumstances which justify a de- 
parture from the diatonic melody ? 



RECITATION SEVENTH, 



FULL CADENCE. 

There is another form of the cadence, which marks 
the termination of a subject more completely than any 
yet described. The fuller close of the voice effected by 
this cadence, is produced by falling a discrete third, or 
fifth, upon some syllable preceding the common cadence, 
and near enough to it to be connected with it by the ear. 
It is exemplified in the following diagram. 



Such ho - nors II - ion to 


her lo - ver paid. 




^ & @r -r (ffl r er 


& .iPk 




^ 




And peace -fid slept the migh - 


ty Hec - tor's shade. 


1 


[. *f $? of ^f &$' 




1 W €k ™ ™ 


w ^ ~_ 


! 



The voice descends here a discrete third upon the 
word " slept," which occasions a more perfect close than 
if the word were retained within the range of the simple 
melody. This cadence should often be employed at the 
end of a paragraph, and always at the close of a discourse. 



TRANSITION OF VOICE. 95 

TRANSITION OF VOICE. 

AS TO ITS RADICAL PITCH. 

The first or prelusive note upon which a speaker sets 
out in his discourse has often an influence on its whole 
melody. There is a medium pitch of the voice, differ- 
ing of course in different individuals, from which ascent 
and descent through its whole compass is easy. Speakers 
should be careful to become familiar with this note, and 
to acquire a habit of striking upon it at once. They 
should always set out with it in discourse, and often re- 
turn to it. It is the note most frequently heard in ordi- 
nary conversation. Some speakers almost immediately 
after commencing their discourse, run up to the top of 
the voice, and continue that high pitch through the largest 
portion of an address, thereby producing a continued 
radical monotony. This is tiresome and offensive, in 
the highest degree. To aggravate the evil the high 
pitch is commonly united with great loudness, and an en- 
tire defect of the cadence is usually superadded. Oth- 
ers immediately, or very soon fall below the natural note 
and are not able to rise again. They cannot make a 
cadence, because they cannot descend below the pitch 
they have assumed. They cannot speak with force, be- 
cause if the voice descends to a certain point below its 
middle note it ceases to be able to employ force. Indeed 
this descent may be carried so far, that the syllables be- 
come at length inaudible. To maintain fullness and strength 
of tone, let the middle note, or that note above and be- 
low, which the voice can be easily managed, be always 



96 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

made the starting point of a discourse. Further, let a 
speaker accustom himself by frequent practice to rise and 
fall upon sentences, selected for the purpose, through the 
whole compass of the voice. Such a practice was com- 
mon with the ancient speakers, and will be an effective 
means of removing the inconveniences we have descri- 
bed, by giving a ready command over the scale. 

Another great fault of delivery arises from w T ant of 
transition in tone at those parts of a discourse where the 
speaker enters on a new train of thought. 

Such parts are generally divided, in writing, by para- 
graphs. But these, which require to be marked by chan- 
ges of tone, are often quite disregarded. I have heard a 
boy at school deliver a long piece, distinguished by va- 
riety, without one marked transition of tone. I have 
heard students at college do the same in declamations 
composed by themselves, and well divided to the 
eye. Nay, I have heard every student do this in a long 
succession of speakers, where the pieces averaged ten 
or fifteen minutes in delivery. I have been led by these 
circumstances to point out this defect to my class, and 
have shewn them by the voice, how it might be avoid- 
ed ; and the redeeming effect of marked but temperate 
transitions has been most striking in their subsequent de- 
clamations. Nothing relieves the ear more agreeably 
than well regulated transition. It should be effected 
with temperance — but whenever a speaker enters on a 
new train of thought, whether in reading or speaking, notice 
should be given to the ear by the following means differ- 
ently modified as to degree, according to circumstances. 

1. By a change in the quality and pitch of the voice. 



TRANSITION OF VOICE* 97 

2. By an alteration in the rate of the voice as to quick- 
ness or slowness. 3. By an abatement of the previous force 
or loudness. 4. By a change in the phrases of melody. 

The falling on the monotone, for a short space, has of- 
ten a striking effect. All these circumstances will, of 
course, be most conspicuous during the pronunciation of 
the few first sentences, at the fresh paragraphs, af- 
ter which the voice will naturally escape into the freer 
expansion of a more animated delivery. Always at the 
introduction of a subject requiring a new 7 paragraph the 
directions here given should be followed. But, in slighter 
degrees, the changes insisted upon should occasionally be 
introduced, to mark the opening of successive sentences.* 

Pupils never find any difficulty in obtaining a command 
over the changes of the voice here described after they 
have been once clearly explained and exhibited to them. 

The subject of transition may be somewhat farther il- 
lustrated by example : and as it is one of considerable 
practical moment, we subjoin the following extract for 
the purpose of further explanation. 

1. At midnight, in his guarded tent, 
The Turk was dreaming of the hour, 
When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, 
Should tremble at his power ; 
In dreams, thro' camp and court, he bore 
The trophies of a conqueror; 
In dreams his song of triumph heard ; 

* The happy transitions, among other marked improvements in 
the deliver) 7 , could not fail to strike these who attended the last 
commencement of Yale College. 

9 



98 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Then wore his monarch's signet ring, 
Then pressed that monarch's throne — a king ; 
As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 
As Eden's garden bird. 

3. An hour passed on. — The Turk awoke : 
That bright dream was his last ; 
He woke — to hear his sentry's shriek, 
"To arms! they come ! the Greek ! the Greek!" 
He woke to die midst flame and smoke, 
And shout, and groan, and sabre stroke, 
And death shots falling thick and fast 
As lightnings from the mountain cloud; 
And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, 

Bozzarris cheer his band ; 
" Strike — till the last armed foe expires, 
Strike — for your altars and your fires, 
Strike — for the green graves of your sires, 

God — and yourf native land !" 

4. They fought — like brave men, long and well, 
They piled that ground with Moslem slain, 
They conquered — but Bozzarris fell, 
Bleeeding at every vein. 

Marco Bozzarris. Elocutionist, p. 307. 

The whole of the first section of the superscribed ex- 
tract, should be read with about the same quality, rate, 
and pitch of voice, which are employed in conversation, 
with perhaps a little more force. The second sentence 
should begin about a radical third lower, with monotone, 
and a slower movement. Upon the third line, the 
voice should rise somewhat higher in pitch, with some 
increase of rate ; while upon the fourth, it should be still 
louder, higher, and more rapid. Upon the last four lines 
especially, the delivery should be loud, high and rapid. 



TRANSITION OF VOICE. 99 

The voice should again fall in pitch, upon the com- 
mencement of the next section, and should be slow in its 
movement, with a prevalence of the monotone. 

These remarks may serve the purpose of explaining 
more fully, what we mean by transition. 

It is less marked in all its circumstances, in prose com- 
position, than in the extract above cited. Indeed, great 
transitions of force and pitch are generally unnatural ; 
and to be carefully avoided, except under circumstances 
of violent passion : but these are for the most part con- 
fined to the stage, and never occur in ordinary compo- 
sition. 



QUESTIONS TO RECITATION SEVENTH. 

1. How is the most impressive kind of cadence 
formed ? 

2. What are the circumstances to be particularly at- 
tended to, in order to effect transitions in the voice ? 

3. Under what circumstances are they to be em- 
ployed ? 



UECITATJOHT EIGHTH. 



The application of rising and falling thirds, fifths, and 
octaves, as well as the different waves of the voice, will 
be seen under the head of emphasis, and that of the lan- 
guage of emotion, 

EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 

The extension of the time of syllables without chang- 
ing their standard pronunciation, is one of the most im- 
portant uses of the voice. It is not possible to give a 
serious, solemn, or dignified expression to speech, nor to 
employ one of the forms of emphasis of a highly impres- 
sive and agreeable character, without a command over 
quantity. Some syllables cannot be extended in their 
time without changing their natural sound, or rendering 
their pronunciation affected. Act, pit, cat, fate, dip, arc, 
are of this sort. So also are blood, carry, memory, 
abominable. Others again are capable of great prolon- 
gation, and with an increase of pleasure to the ear. Hail, 
all, thee, isle, own, ooze, how, are of this description. 

If any person will take these words one by one, and 
pronounce them as shortly as possible, and then draw 
them out more and more, at successive efforts, till (with- 
out changing their familiar and acknowledged sound,) he 
finds that they are lengthened to such a degree as to 
become very emphatic, he will obtain an elementary 
notion of quantity. When this is done properly, the syl- 



EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 101 

tables are just what they were before, except that they 
are vastly longer, without drawl, and with a finer effect 
upon the ear. The high degree of impressive empha- 
sis thus communicated, even upon a solitary syllable, will 
at once demonstrate the importance of that mutable cha- 
racter, which it possesses as to time. Indeed, how could 
such a curious power of varying them, be given in vain. 
It is, like many other powers of the voice, directly related 
to the language of emotion, for the use of all those who 
have any. 

There are syllables susceptible of slight extension, 
which are intermediate between the two classes above 
described. 

If a syllable cannot be extended in quantity, without 
changing the elementary sounds which compose it, or ren- 
dering its pronunciation affected, it is not to have it. 
Such a syllable may be considered as immutable with 
regard to its time. The conditions above stated, limit 
the time of such syllables as are mutable. Those which 
are capable of great extension, may be termed indefinite. 
In giving great length to syllables, and avoiding at the 
same time, any other form of emphasis except that of 
time, the flexure of the wave of the second, is necessarily 
assumed, because the simple rise or fall of the voice is 
not of sufficient duration for the display of very extended 
quantity. A power of giving great quantity, therefore, 
implies a power over the w r ave, and a few trials will 
communicate it to the student. The exhibition of quan- 
tity is to be perfectly free from the slightest drawl. This 
can only be avoided by taking care to give the syllables 
with a gradual lessening of the volume of the voice, du- 
ring its pronunciation, and ending it with the vanish for- 

9* 



102 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

merly described. The preservation of the exact condi- 
tions of the concrete slide as heretofore explained, can 
alone preserve a speaker from degenerating into song, or 
drawl in the use of long quantity. That part of our 
subject should be reconsidered with special reference 
to it. 

All the long vowel elements are eminently susceptible 
of quantity, and always with an agreeable effect upon the 
ear ; consequently, all syllables which end with these 
elements, can be prolonged. So can many which com- 
mence with them. The following are specimens. 



Day, 


age, 


law, 


awed, 


Fa (in father,) 


arm, 


thee, 


eel, 


who, 


ooze, 


thy, isle, thou, 


our. 



The consonant elements do not admit of time at the 
beginning of syllables. If quantity be given to them in 
this situation, and consequently to the syllables of which 
they make a part, the pronunciation becomes affected, as 
will be perceived on pronouncing the words contained in 
the table page. The following passage would have a 
very affected utterance, if the elements marked by italics 
were to be considerably extended in quantity. 

Oh could I^-ow l-ike th~ee, and m-ake thy str-e&m 
M-y gr-eat e-#-ample, as it is my theme ; 
Though d-eep, yet cZ-ear, though gentle, yet not d-ull ; 
Sfr-ong without r-age, without o'er^-owing, full. 

I know a gentleman whose constant habit was to give 
length to every consonant susceptible of it, wherever 
found. Very few persons, who by accident get a habit 
of quantity, are entirely free from the faults of lengthen- 
ing the consonants. 



EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 103 

With reference to quantity, consonant elements may- 
be submitted to the following classification. 

* 1. Those which produce entire occlusion, as P, T, 
K. These never perceptibly increase the time of sylla- 
bles. Their utterance is a mere point of sound, as a-f, 
o-p, a-c, Me, p-\e, c-le. 

2. Those which consist of mere aspiration, as /, s, h, 
wh, th, sh, ch, can be extended, but they are a bad mate- 
rial for time, and ought to be uttered as short as possible, 
without rendering their enunciation indistinct. The follow- 
ing are specimens of their combination with other ele- 
ments, as fle, so, os, horse, wheat, thin, truth, shun, ash, 
church. 

3. Those which soon produce occlusion, but are first 
vocal in the throat, are susceptible of some quantity, 
though not of the longest. They are b, d, g, and are 
heard in orb, aid, egg. 

4. Those which are vocal without occlusion, are all sus- 
ceptible of extension, and are proper subjects of quantity 
in certain combinations, with other elements : they are /, 
m, n, r final, and ng ; the trilled r with which sylla- 
bles commence, does not admit of much quantity; a 
single slap of the tongue, so as to make the trill manifest, 
is sufficient ; a farther continuation of it is disagreeable 
and affected. The words, all, aim, own, song, war, will 
display the quantity of these elements. 

5. Some of those elements, which are partly vocal, 
and partly aspirate, have quantity in certain combinations,, 
while others rarely, if ever, admit of it. The vocal as- 

* I am indebted to Dr. Fitch, Professor of Divinity, in Yale Col- 
lege, for the suggestions which led to this classification. 



104 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



pirates are v, z, y, w, th, th as in *A-ou, zh in a-2-ure. 
Of these, v and z are the most liable to quantity at the 
end of syllables, as sa-v-e, i-s, wa-s; the others seldom 
require or bear extension. 

Let the following words be pronounced with extended 
quantity, with a fine display of the vanishing movement ; 
and without the slightest affectation or change of cha- 
racter. 



Orb, 


flows, 


one, 


man, 


pure, 


doom, 


aid, 


flowed, 


burn, 


wo, 


dove, 


bale, 


old, 


air, 


swilVd, 


one, 


low, 


flames, 


save, 


star, 


wild, 


gain, 


motfd, 


is, 


was, 


war, 


plumed, 


spire, 


he, 


knows, 


all, 


song, 


fair, 


rhyme, 


times, 


nine, 


stars, 


prose, 


there, 


hail, 


wings, 


morn, 


thou, 


knell, 


praise, 


world, 


bear, 


wheels, 


call, 


lull, 


tears, 


aim, 


scorn, 


arm, 


home, 


sad, 


turn. 









Let the syllables marked in italics, in the following 
sections of sentences be prolonged as much as possible 
consistent with natural and unaffected pronunciation, and 
with the attenuated vanish of the voice. * 

Hail, hoAy light. "Or of the eternal co-eternal beam, 
may I express thee tm-blamed." 



* Care must be taken not to mouth the syllables marked in italics. 
Mouthing is a deviation from standard pronunciation, and is most 
apt to occur upon the sounds ou, 00, aw, o, and m. Whenever 
these sounds pass the organs of speech, exercise a vigilant observa- 
tion over the movement of the lips. The less the lips are used, 
the more free will be the pronunciation from the defect we have 
pointed out; 



EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 105 

" Dwelt then in thee, bright effluence of bright essence 
m-create." " Be-fore the sun, before the heavens thou 
wert." " Thee I revisit now with b-oZ-der wing." 

" We praise thee, O God, we acknowledge thee to be 
the Lord" 

" Our Fa-ther who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy 
name. Thy kingdom come. Thy vA-ll be done on earth, 
as it is in heaven. Give us this day our dai-\y bread, and 
forgive us our trespasses as we ior-give them that tres- 
pass against us. And lead us not into temptation : but 
deliver us from e-vil. For thine is the king-dom, and 
the power, and the gl-o-ry, for ever and ever. Amen" 

Roll on, thou dark and deep blue ocean, roll. 

Soothed with the sound, the King grew vain. 

None but the brave, none but the brave, 

JVbne but the brave, deserve the fair. 

The song be-gan from Jove. 

A dragon's fiery form belied the god. 

Sublime (on radiant spires) he rode; 

And now and then a sigh he stole, and tears began to flow. 

I will here insert a list of all the words requiring long 
quantity, in Byron's address to the ocean, in the order in 
which they will be found in the Elocutionist, page 282. 
The words requiring extended time, are in italics. 

Sec. 1. Line 1, " Oh!" Line 4, "love, but only 
her." Line 6, " Can ye not accord me such a being ?" 
Line 7, Do I err ? Line 9, rarely be. 

Sec. 2. Line 2, lonely shore. Line 4, " sea," " mu- 
sic." Line 5, "more." Line 8, "mingle with the uni- 
verse and feel." Line 9, con-ceal. 

Sec. 3. Line 1, " roll," on " roll." Line 2, " Ten 



106 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

thousand." Line 4, " shore" Line 5, "thy" Line 
9, " un-k-nelled" " and un-known." 

Sec. 4. Line 1, " thy," " thy." Line 4 5 " despise." 
Line 8, " bay" Line 9, " there let him lay" 

Sec. 5. Line 7, " these are thy toys." Line 8, 
"waves" "mar" 

Sec. 6. Line 1, "changed in all save thee" Line 
3, " thy," "free." Line 5, " their." Line 6, " realm," 
" not 50 thou." Line 7, " unchangeable." Line 8, fime 
writes no wrinkle on thine azure 6row. Line 9, " dawn" 
" now." 

I have here noted every word which appears tome to re- 
quire conspicuous extension to Sect. 7. The student may 
take his pencil and mark the peice for himself, and then 
read it, subject to such marking. Careful practice upon 
the words and sentences before given, with the reading 
of a few such pieces as that cited above, will give a com- 
plete command over quantity : one of the most indispen- 
sible requisites to fine reading and speaking, and to thkt 
most important feature of it, a distinct and well marked 
pronunciation. 

We will recapitulate the circumstances necessary to 
be observed in the use of quantity, whether for purpo- 
ses of dignified narrative and description, or for empha- 
sis. They are, 

1 . A well marked radical with a lessening volume of 
sound from the opening, and a clear terminating vanish. 
This will keep the syllable free from all admixture of song 
and drawl. 

2. The preserving the syllable unaltered as respects 
the natural sound of its elements. 



EMPLOYMENT OF QUANTITY. 107 

3. The avoiding the slightest mouthing. 

Good reading requires that the syllables susceptible of 
quantity should be sufficiently marked by that element to 
contrast them with the audible effect of the percussive ac- 
cents heard in the utterance of short ones. If time and stress 
are properly combined and marked in speech, it will pos- 
sess two essential elementary conditions of agreeable 
discourse upon which other excellencies may be grafted. 
But if either stress or time are feebly marked, other 
beauties of utterance as emphasis, intonation, and chan- 
ges in the quality of the voice will not redeem it. A 
well marked stress and a gracefully extended time are 
the staple of agreeable speech. They give it the two 
properties of smoothness and brilliancy. The first de- 
pends on quantity, the latter on stress. The follow- 
ing subjects and all others which are of a serious and de- 
liberate character, require a great extension of syllabic 
quantity. 

1. Grandeur and solemnity of Description. The fol- 
lowing is an instance. 

" High on a throne of rot/-al state, which far 
Out-shone the wealth of Or-mus and of Ind ; 
Or where the gor-geous east with richest hand 
Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
Satan exalted sat." 

2. Reverential and earnest prayer, veneration, awe, &c. 
We have cited the Lord's prayer as an instance. Others 
of a similar kind abound in the Psalms, and in the solemn 
supplication of the Episcopal Church. Adam and Eve's 
Morning Hymn is one. 



108 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

3. Solemn Denunciation. 

" Wo unto thee Cho-razin, Woe unto thee Beth-saida." 

" For soon expect to feel 
His thun-der on thy head de-vour-'mg fire, 
Then who created thee lamenting learn, 
When who can wn-create thee thou shalt know" 

4. Deep Pathos. This requires the use of the wave 
of the semitone, which is nothing but plaintiveness and long 
drawn time. The following is a marked instance. 

" We have err'd and strayed from thy ways, like lost 
sheep. We have done those things which we ought not 
to have done and we have left tm-done those things which 
we ought to have done, and there is no health in us. But 
thou, O ! Lord, have mercy upou us miserable offend- 
ers. Spare thou those O / God, who confess their faults. 
Restore thou those who are penitent, ac-cord-ing to thy 
promises declared unto mankind, in Christ Je-sus our 
Lord. And grant, O ! most merciful Father, for his 
sake, that we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and 
so-ber life, to the glo-ry of thy Ao-ly name." 

I have here particularized by italics, those words which 
require the most marked extension. The general move- 
ment is comparatively slow, for these cast their sombre 
shadows over the whole, and subdue it to the tone of 
deep and penitential sorrow. Other instances will be 
found in this Grammar, and in the Elocutionist, requi- 
ring from their dignified and serious character, an ex- 
tended time. The apostrophe to the Queen of France. 
The extracts from the Revelations : parts of Isaiah and 
the Psalms, together with several others. 



QUESTIONS. 109 



QUESTIONS TO RECITATION EIGHTH. 

1. What is the meaning of quantity, as applicable to 
speech ? 

2. What are the conditions which limit its use in syl- 
lables? 

3. What interval of pitch is most employed in the use 
of very long quantity ? 

4. What are the circumstances necessary to give it an 
agreeable effect? 

5. How is a drawl to be avoided ? 

6. How is song to be avoided ? 

7. Under what particular circumstances is quantity 
inadmissible on consonants susceptible of it ? 

8. What is the classification of elements best adapted 
to present an elementary view of quantity ? 

9. State the different classes of elements susceptible of 
quantity. 

10. To what subjects is long quantity applicable ? 



10 



RECITATION NINTH. 



OF PLAINTIVENESS IN SPEECH, OR THE 
USE OF THE SEMITONE. 

I shall state merely what is directly practical on this 
subject. Persons desirous of looking more deeply into 
it, may consult with great advantage, Dr. Rush's pro- 
found disquisition on the chromatic melody of speech, 
Sec. 18, page 247, of his " Philosophy of the human 
voice." 

Let the following vowels sounds be uttered with plain- 
tiveness, and they will slide through the interval of a se- 
mitone, a, i, o. 

Let them be sounded with a marked plaintiveness of 
character, at high pitch, at a low one, and at one that 
is intermediate between high and low. This will show 
that the plaintiveness is inherent in the semitonic slide, 
wherever it may begin in the compass of the voice. In 
general, however, a low radical pitch is best adapted to 
subjects requiring the semitone. All subjects of great pa- 
thos and tenderness, require the use of the semitone. It 
is the natural element of the plaintive emotions. Let the 
student, therefore, acquire a command over it. This 
will be best effected by turning to the table of the vowels 
and consonants, and sounding them with strenuous en- 
deavour to give them an unequivocally plaintive charac- 
ter, until it is distinctly marked. 

Let die following sentences then be read with a con- 
spicuously plaintive expression. 



PLAINTIVENESS OF SPEECH. Ill 

My mother, when I learned that thou wast dead, 
Say, wast thou conscious of the tears I shed ? 
Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son ? 
Wretch, even then, life's journey just begun. 
Perhaps thou gavest me, though unseen, a kiss ; 
Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in bliss. 
Ah! that maternal smile, it answers yes. 
I heard the bell toll'd on thy funeral day ; 
I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away ; 
And turning, from my nursery window, drew 
A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu. 

Quantity is always united with the semitone, when it is 
employed in solemn and serious subjects; it then as- 
sumes the form of the wave. The semitone is appropri- 
ate to love, pity, complaint, vexation, disappointment, 
sorrow, penitential supplication, and pain of all kinds. 

example 1. Love. 

Oh ! Mary, dear, departed shade, 
Where is thy place of blissful rest ? 
See'st thou thy lover, lowly laid ? 
Hear'st thou the groan3 that rend his breast ? 

example 2. Pity. 
" Oh ! sailor boy, sailor boy, peace to thy soul." 

example 3. Complaint. 

Q.Kath. Would I had never trod this English earth, 
Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it. 
Ye have angel's/aces, but heaven knows your hearts : 
I am the most unhappy woman living. 

example 4. Deep sorrow. 
" Oh my son Absalom, my son, my son Absalom, 



112 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

would God I had died for thee, O Absalom my son, my 
son." 

example 5. Disappointment. 

" Ye mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew, neither 
rain, upon you ; for there the shield of the mighty was 
vilely cast away. The shield of Saul as though it had 
not been anointed with oil. 

example 6. Penitential supplication. 

The instance quoted, page 108, is an example. 

example 7. Bodily pain. 

" Oh ! Griffith sick to death, 
My legs like loaden branches bow to the earth, 
Willing to leave their burthen. Reach a chair, 
So, now me thinks I feel a little ease." 

In most of the above cited examples, the reading con- 
templated, is that which exhibits personal feeling in the 
highest degree. If some of them are read in a narrative 
manner, we may drop the semitone retaining the long 
quantity. Language effects its objects in two ways ; first 
by the particular words employed, and their connection ; 
and secondly by the intonation put upon them. Words 
are in themselves symbols of feeling, but their effect is 
heightened by special conditions of melody. Where the 
language is in itself solemn and plaintive, the superaddi- 
tion of long quantity and a predominant use of the mono- 
tone, will be sufficient for a moderate degree of pathos. 
But the highest expression of mournful feeling, can only 
be effected by the semitone* 



TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 113 

TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 

In plain reading and speaking, this element is seldom 
required. The gurgling of the throat, and the neighing 
of a horse are instances of it. T, P, K, as producing 
entire occlusion, and the aspirates may be laid out of our 
account as respects the tremor. Let the student turn to 
the Table, and sound each of the other alphabetic ele- 
ments with a prolonged tremor, maintaining the same 
pitch throughout the process of sounding each, with which 
he begins it. Let him then endeavour to give to each, 
during the continuance of the tremulous movement, a 
rising semitone, third, fifth, and octave : — afterwards the 
same falling movements. Strenuous and persevering ef- 
forts will be necessary, in order to rise and fall easily 
through the different intervals with tremor ; but when 
the student can effect it upon the alphabetic elements, 
he will find no difficulty in applying it to words. Let 
him as a practice, sound the words contained in the table 
under the head of quantity, page 104, taking care that eve- 
ry element (except those above excluded from conside- 
ration) heard in the word, sustains its due portion of the 
tremor. Let them be sounded through the intervals, in 
the manner directed for the alphabetic elements. The 
circumstances to be aimed at in the use of the tremor, are 
to make the separate tittles as distinct as possible, to make 
them follow each other with ease and rapidity*, to have 
each well accented, to make them as numerous as possi- 
ble during the proper pronunciation of the syllables on 
whiclvthey are placed, and to take care that each ele- 
ment contained in them, sustain its due portion of the 

10* 



114 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

movement. In the higher kinds of poetry and oratory ? 
the tremor judiciously applied, has sometimes a very 
striking effect. Persons on the stage, who have obtained 
a command over it> generally employ it to excess, and on 
improper occasions. It unites very naturally with other 
elements of the voice, in the expression of several of the 
emotions, and increases the intensity of their expression. 
It heightens the trill of joy, mirth, and exultation ; adds 
pungency to scorn, or derision ; deepens the note of sor- 
rowful feeling ; and, enhances the voice of distress. It is 
heard in laughing and crying. In the former it is em- 
ployed with the tone — in the latter with the semitone. 
As it is occasionally required for such purposes as we 
have specified, it should be at the command of the rea- 
der and speaker. The elementary practice here enjoin- 
ed, will place it at his disposal ; and the examples which 
follow, may instruct him in its appropriate use. It is to 
be employed with temperance, for it lies on the extremes 
of the emotions. Indeed, with regard to this and to all 
other striking elements of the art of speech, the youthful 
speaker must acquire a temperance, consistent with na- 
ture, and the general taste of society. 

As to the acquisition of the elements, let the student 
be assured that no considerable difficulty lies in his way 
here. All that has been wanted, has been to know the 
elements, to classify, to name them, to render them se- 
parate objects of elementary practice^ to learn them in 
the way of analysis, before attempts are made to com- 
pound them together, for the purpose of communicating 
the sense and sentiment of discourse. Ignorance of them,, 
want of practice upon them, and previous bad habits. 



TREMOR OF THE VOICE. 115 

mainly growing out of such ignorance and want of prac- 
tice, are the sources of faulty speaking. 

Examples of the tremor. It should be heard m the 
congratulatory exultation of Aufidius, the Volscian gene- 
ral, upon finding that Coriolanus was disposed to join the 
Volscians against his country. 

All the syllables on which (I think) it should be heard, 
are marked by italics. 

Oh! Marcius, Marcius l 
Each word which thou hast spoke, has weeded from my heart 
A root of ancient envy : if Jupiter 
Should from yon cloud speak divine things, and say 
'Tis true, I'd not believe them more than thee, 
Allno-ble Marcius ! 

" Why thou Mars ! I tell thee, 
We have a power on foot ; and I had purpose 
Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn, 
Or lose mine arm for it." 

Falstaff. " Til not march through Coventry with 
them thafs flat. No eye hath seen such scare-crows." 

This is, as the reader will perceive, an extract from 
FalstafTs ragged regiment ; the whole of which, if dra- 
matically read, and little effect can be given to it by a 
merely plain reading, requires an almost continual chuck- 
le, and is a fine instance for the expression of the tremor, 
which is required upon almost every syllable. This 
piece should be practiced for its acquisition. It will be 
found in the Elocutionist, page 125. 

Queen Katharine, in commending her daughter Mary 
to Henry, terminates the affecting bequest, with these 
words of sorrowful and thrilling tenderness. They re- 



116 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

quire, in dramatic reading, the marked expression of the 
semitone ; while the tremor should play throughout, and 
especially upon the words, " Heaven knows how dearly." 

" And a little 
To love her for her mother's sake, that loved him, 
Heaven knows how dearly." 



QUESTIONS TO RECITATION NINTH. 

1 . What are the circumstances necessary to render the 
tremulous movement of the voice consistent with the re- 
quisitions of the art of elocution ? 

2. To what emotions is it generally applicable ? 

3. The student is required to exhibit it on the ele- 
ments, — on a series of words, — on the examples. 



RECITATIOX TENTH* 



FORCE OF VOICE. 

Force of voice may be heard at the beginning of a 
syllable exclusively, by abrupt percussion ; in the 
middle of its course by swell of voice, increasing from 
the beginning of the syllable ; or it may be con- 
spicuously marked at the termination, or at both 
ends, or equally throughout the whole body of a syl- 
lable, The vowel elements, as we have already shown, 
can be exploded with a very high degree of sud- 
den force. A long vowel may be made to burst upon 
the ear at its commencement with great explosive energy, 
and then the voice, constantly and equably diminishing in 
volume, may carry it through an extended quantity to its 
final termination in a delicate vanish. 

To this commencing force, Dr. Rush has given the 
name of RADICAL STRESS, because it is effected by 
the radical part of a syllable. (See p. 76.) We have 
already spoken of its importance and of the elementary 
method of acquiring it. This kind of force expresses 
strong anger and all the passions allied to it. It is appro- 
priate to impetuous mirth, indeed to all the animating 
emotions ; to wrath, joy, hope, exultation, positiveness, 
and in a greater or less degree, to the different modifica- 
tions of these states of mind. Radical stress is gene- 
rally combined with short syllabic quantity, and a conse- 
quent rapid movement of the voice in discourse. In 
the expression of impetuous anger, in dramatic reading 



118 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

the words ought to burst forth like the rapid and succes- 
sive explosions heard in a display of fire works, cracking 
upon the ear with a constant repetition of short but ve- 
hement impulses. Few actors can give the expression 
here contemplated, and therefore, rant and mouth to 
compensate for their want of it. Force, when employed 
effectively, in right places, is a symbol of energy of feel- 
ing. In the delivery of the English language, it is a pow- 
erful agent of Oratory ; it makes dullness attentive, com- 
municates an impetuous spirit to discourse, and when 
united with strong intelligence and personal influence, 
rouses, animates, intimidates, overawes. When employ- 
ed in a moderate degree under the form of a well mark- 
ed accent, it gives life and animation to discourse, and 
makes it what is usually called brilliant. 

The address of Henry to his troops before the gates 
of Harfleur may be cited as requiring a high degree of 
the species of stress just described. The four last lines 
of Sect. 3, page 308 of the " ELOCUTIONIST," is 
another instance. Another is the last words of Edward 
to Warwick, page 327 of that work. Sections 8 and 9, 
page 343, are other examples. 



VANISHING FORCE OR STRESS. 

It has been already shown, that, in ordinary cases, the 
volume of the voice diminishes during the pronunciation 
of a long syllable, and that it is weakest at its termina- 
tion. Now force, may be applied at this very point. 
Such an application of force, Dr. Rush has called Van- 
ishing Stress, because it occurs at that part of the sylla- 



FORCE OF VOICE. 119 

bles where sound usually vanishes into silence. This 
kind of stress cannot be well shown on any but a long 
syllable, because upon a short one, extremities cannot be 
rendered conspicuous by quantity. 

The vanishing stress is very distinctly marked in Hic- 
cough. An impressive illustration of its effects may be 
obtained by attention to the Irish pronunciation, the pe- 
culiarity of which depends on vanishing stress united 
with the frequent rise of a third and fifth. 

Let the student turn to the table of the vowel ele- 
ments, and, selecting one of the long vowels, let him be- 
gin it with moderate force, carrying it through any one 
of the intervals, (say a rising third or fifth) with long 
quantity making a strong and sudden jerk at its termina- 
tion, and an impressive exhibition will be made of the 
kind of stress we are describing. As soon as he has as- 
certained the nature of the movement he may then prac- 
tice it upon the other intervals of the scale. It may be 
also manifested on the consonants susceptible of quan- 
tity. 

This stress is often employed to make the concrete 
interval of thirds and fifths more conspicuous in interro- 
gation. It expresses impatient ardor, complaint, hasty 
and irritable interrogation, surprise, and fretfulness. It 
is often heard in the fretful complaints of children. It 
is more or less the habit of some voices, as well as a 
national characteristic. 

Some striking examples of its use will be given under 
Emphasis. We would remark, however, that if its ap- 
plication is to be natural, it must be " touched lightly." 
In the trials of beginners to verify elements, they are apt 
to be given in an excessive degree, or in a bungling man- 



120 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

ner. This leads some superficial people to condemn the 
art of elocution, as if it produced an unnatural or artifi- 
cial method of speaking. But time and practice are ne- 
cessary to success in every art. Let the ear be first im- 
pressed by a marked exhibition of the elements, and then 
let them be diligently practiced till their expression be- 
comes easy and natural. All this may be effected in 
much less time than is required to play well on a flute or 
a violin. 



COMPOUND FORCE. 

Force is sometimes applied at both ends of a sylla- 
ble. Some examples of this will be given under Empha- 
sis. For practical purposes, nice distinctions between 
this compound use of force, and that last described, are 
not necessary. 



MEDIAN FORCE. 

But force is sometimes heard under another form. 
Not at the opening of a syllable — not at its termination — 
but conspicuously during its pronunciation. This pe- 
culiar application of force, Dr. Rush calls median stress. 
Let the following directions be observed in the pronunci- 
ation of the subscribed syllables. Sole, hail, feel, J. 
Let each be opened with moderate force — let the voice 
gradually swell in volume as it proceeds, till the force be- 
comes conspicuous, and then let it diminish in the gradu- 
al manner in which it increased, and end in the usual 



MEDIAN FORCE. 121 

r vanish. This kind of force can only be shown in syl- 
lables of long quantity, and naturally carries them through 
some form of the wave. The practice should be on the 
wave of the second. Median force is well known in mu- 
sic by the term swell. It is a conspicuous ornament of 
song, and may be employed with equal effect, in speech. 
It gives emphasis to words without communicating to 
them a character of sharpness or violence; enforcing 
with agreeable smoothness, the expression of those mo- 
difications of joy, exultation, hope, and surprise, which 
are compatible with personal dignity. It also gives em- 
phasis to words of insinuation, and to such as express 
solemn grandeur, reverential awe, and kindred emotions. 
Several examples of the application of Median Stress, 
will be given under Emphasis. We conclude by ob- 
serving, that, it is the proper emphasis in all subjects re- 
quiring long quantity ; — consequently, in all those of a 
dignified character. It is an element requiring great 
delicacy in its management. The swell is in general, 
only slightly marked, when naturally used ; — any thing 
like violence, is foreign to this species of emphasis. 

Whenever it is practised upon the alphabetic ele- 
ments, the circumstances to be aimed at, are, that the 
swell should be gradual and moderate, but at the same 
time distinctly marked, that it should decline gently and 
equably as it began, and end in a delicate vanish into 
silence, after a prolonged quantity. Great pains should 
be taken to acquire a power over median stress. The 
long vowels are eminently susceptible of it. It may be 
farther practised upon the tables of words, under the 
head of quantity, page 104. 

11 



122 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



ASPIRATED MOVEMENTS OF THE VOICE. 

Several of the elements are uttered by mere whis- 
pering: for instance,/, s, sh, th, ivh, ch, and others. All 
these elements are alike in one generic quality. They 
have no sound in the throat. They are under any in- 
crease of stress, mere forcible breath. The vowel ele- 
ments, as may be proved by turning to the tables, have 
no aspiration in their customary mode of utterance. 
Some of the consonants are free from it, while others 
are entirely aspirate, and others partly vocal in the throat, 
and partly aspirate. It is possible to mingle aspiration 
with all the vowel elements : let this be tried upon o, 00, 
ee, a. It is possible to make them entirely aspirate, by 
whispering them. Aspiration can be breathed among 
words in a greater or less degree, till they become per- 
fect whispers. If words are vociferated with excessive 
violence, they become aspirated. This is sometimes a 
cause of indistinct articulation, particularly in the ranting 
of the stage. Aspiration, in this case, depends upon a 
greater quantity of air being forced from the throat, than 
can be brought into vibration against the roof and sides 
of the mouth. Aspiration gives to words an air of mys- 
tery. It expresses excessive earnestness, strong anger, 
sneering contempt, scorn, and violent rage. Hissing, 
which is unmixed aspiration, expresses scorn in the 
highest degree. Aspiration adds to the scornful expres- 
sion of the unequal waves. It is an element requiring 
care in its use. 



GUTTURAL EMPHASIS. ACCENT. 123 

EXAMPLES. 

Aspiration should prevail in the following mysterious 
passage. 

t; Then first, with amazement, fair Imogine found 

That a stranger was placed by her side ; 

His air was terrific ; he uttered no sound ; 

He spoke not, he moved not, he looked not around. 

But earnestly gazed on the bride. " : 

And in the following. 

Shylock. How like a fawning publican he looks ! 



GUTTURAL EMPHASIS. 

There is a harsh grating sound in the throat, expres- 
sive of the highest degree of loathing, scorn, and anger, 
which is sometimes required in the strong expression of 
dramatic reading. 

It requires to be united with strong radical stress, and is 
always accompanied with aspiration. See example un- 
der Emphasis. 



ACCEXT. 

The property of syllables, so well known by the name 
of accent, is dependent on the perception the ear has of 
force and time. The former communicates accent to 
short, the other to long, syllables. 



124 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Short syllables — mc-tory, tem-poral, ra-pidly. Long — 
ho-ljj an-ge\, fear-less. 



QUESTIONS TO RECITATION TENTH. 

1. What are the ways in which force is applied to 
syllables ? 

2. What is meant by radical stress ? 

3. What by vanishing ? 

4. What by median ? 

5. What by compound ? 

6. To what subjects is radical stress appropriate ? 

7. To what median ? 

8. To what vanishing and compound? 

9. The student is required to give some striking in- 
stances of the different kinds of stress. 

10. What is meant by aspiration? 

1 1 . What elements consist of pure aspiration ? 

12. Can all the elements be rendered partially or 
wholly aspirate? 

13. How? 

14. To what sentiments is aspiration appropriate ? 

15. How is guttural emphasis produced? 

16. The student is required to give a vocal demon- 
stration of it in one of the examples under emphasis. 

17. To what conditions of feeling is it applied ? 

18. How is accent produced? 

19. Give an instance of accent by stress, 

20. By quantity. 



RECITATION ELEVENTH. 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 

We are now to enter on a subject highly curious as a 
part of the Physiology of speech, and connected with 
facility of utterance. 

Whether habits of frequent public speaking shall be 
compatible with easy respiration, and with health, or shall 
in many cases be destructive of the constitution, will de- 
pend on a comprehension and application of the princi- 
ples contained in this section of our subject. On a pre- 
servation of the measure of speech, as here explained, 
will depend harmony of utterance as well as its healthful 
exercise. Public speaking is a healthful exercise if pro- 
perly conducted; but of most evil tendency to every de- 
licate constitution, if prosecuted against the laws of mea- 
sure. We request attention to the following prelimina- 
ry observations. 

The Larynx, (the primary organ of voice) is a com- 
pound organ. It performs the function of an air tube 
and of a musical instrument. The first is essential to re- 
spiration, the second to speech. By a beautiful law of 
relation, which we shall presently explain, a perfectly un- 
disturbed respiration is compatible with the flow of ener- 
getic discourse. But that law requires, the division of 
continued speech, into measures. 

Definition. A measure, as applied to speech, consists 
of a heavy or an accented portion of syllabic sound, and 
of a light or unaccented portion, produced by one effort 
11* 



126 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 

of the organ of voice. In the production of all imme- 
diately consecutive sounds the larynx acts by alternate 
pulsation and remission. On this account, two heavy or 
accented syllables cannot be alternated with each other ; 
while a heavy and a light one or an accented and an un- 
accented one, can. The word Hunter can be uttered by 
a single effort of voice ; the first portion of that effort is 
pulsative, the second is remiss, and the two syllables al- 
ternate with each other. But the syllable " hunt" can- 
not be uttered, as it is spoken in the word " hunter," 
that is, under accent, twice, in immediate alternation. 
There must be a palpable hiatus or pause between the 
repeated syllables as hunt, hunt. Therefore in assuming 
consecutive pulsation and remission of the organ of the 
voice, in the pronunciation of the word " hunter," we in- 
tend to express the fact of alternation in the utterance of 
the syllables and to account for it upon some law of 
alternate forcible and remiss organic action. 

Let A stand for heavy or accented, and .-. for lighjt or 
unaccented in our future explanations. 

A perfect measure in speech consists of one, or any 
greater number of syllables, not exceeding jive, uttered 
during one pulsation and remission of the organ of voice. 
A single syllable may constitute a measure ; for if it be 
extended in quantity, the first portion may be under ac- 
cent, or may be perceptibly heavy, and the latter unac- 
cented or light. A short syllable will not constitute a 
measure. The syllables hail, woe, man, and others will 
make a perfect measure, — their length admitting of a 
remission as palpable as if the word consisted of two 
written syllables. Syllables therefore of indefinite quan- 
tity can be so pronounced as to constitute a measure or 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 127 

not, at the option of the speaker. The heavy or accent- 
ed portion of a measure cannot be spread over more 
than a single syllable ; in other words from some inex- 
plicable law of the voice, more than one syllable cannot 
be uttered during what we have ventured to call its pulsa- 
tive effort; while, as we shall see presently, its remiss ac- 
tion can be farther divided. A measure may consist of 
two distinct syllables, as temper, the first heavy, the se- 

A .\ 
cond light : but it may consist of three, as in temperance, 

A .*. .*. 
the first being heavy, and responding to pulsation, the two 
latter ones light, and dividing between them the remiss 
action of the voice. Four syllables may make a meas- 
ure, as in spiritual — so may five, as spiritually : here the 

A .\ .*. /. A /. ,\ .*. .\ 

remission is farther subdivided ; but in its nature it is dis- 
tinct organic action from that employed on the first sylla- 
ble. I believe more than five syllables cannot be crowd- 
ed into one measure. Five are sometimes employed in 
lyric poetry. Milton and Shakspeare, have not, as far as 
I know, ever employed, in any of their lines more than 
four syllables in a measure. It is by no means necessary 
that a measure should consist of a single word. I only 
make this observation because single words have been 
employed for illustration, and I was afraid they might 
mislead some of my junior readers into wrong notions at 
the outset. ' Came to the', is a measure; so is ; when he 

A /. .\ A /. 



was in. 5 He had a fever 



Spain. So 



when he w T as in 

A .\ .\ .*. 

is the part distinguished by notation in the following sec- 



128 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



tion of a sentence. " In the second century of the 

A .\ .*. .% .\ 

christian era, &c.;" for it can be uttered during a sing 
movement of the voice. 

An imperfect measure in speech consists of a syllable 
on which only the heavy part of the voice is heard, or 
of a syllable or syllables on which only the light portion 
of the measure occurs. A bar | | is a mere technical 
invention employed to separate one measure from ano- 
ther; the time being calculated from one bar to another. 
The time of every bar is actually, or is supposed to be, 
equal in speech, as in music. A bar may contain an 
imperfect foot, the accented, or the unaccented, portion 
of the measure being wanting. The time of the bar is, 
in that case, completed by a rest indicated in this gram- 
mar by the following mark 7. 







EXAMPLE. 






'Twas at the 


royal 


feast 7 


7 for 


Persia 


won 


A .*. .*. 


A /. 


A .% 


A .". 


A .*./. 


A.\ 



In this example " feast" is heavy, and " for" light. 
The whole time of a bar may pass in silence | 7 7 | the 
two rests indicating the time of the heavy and light por- 
tions of the measure; or, two or more maybe occupied in 
the same manner | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | . The number must 
be determined by the sense, and the consequent necessity 
of longer or shorter pauses. 

In a succession of measures, each is supposed to con- 
sist of a heavy and a light portion of sound ; but imper- 
fect measures must occur, and their time is consequently 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 129 

completed by pauses. For measures of equal time, 
however constituted, make musical proportion. 

Heavy and light sounds in immediate succession, con- 
stitute the bases of such syllables as fancy, picture, linden, 

A /. A .\ A ,\ 

temper. Light and heavy sounds, make such as attest, 

A .*. /. A 

impel, attack, and others which begin in a similar manner. 

/. A .*. A 

Heavy sounds in succession, require intervening pauses, 

as may be perceived by uttering the words house 7 top 

A .*. A 

7 cat 7 fish 7. 

.\ A .\ A .\ 

Monosyllables, constituting nouns, and verbs not mere- 
ly auxiliary, are generally affected to the heavy or ac- 
cented function of the voice, and particles to the unac- 
cented or light. 

This alone shows the importance of accent in the use 
of language. Light syllables can be rendered heavy by 
emphasis, heavy ones light, as man, woman. 

A A .*. 
From what has been stated, it is evident, that a series 
of syllables, of w 7 hich each is heavy, will employ, together 
with the pauses between them, the same time as if light 
syllables followed the heavy ones. 



EXAMPLE. 



Rocks 7 

A 



Caves 7 

A .*. 



These are all supposed to 



Lakes 7 

A 



Dens 7 

A 



3e pronounced short, though 



some might be prolonged. They will occupy the time of 
the following series. 



130 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



Rocks and 

A 



Caves and 

A 



Lakes and 

A 



Dens 7 

A 



If the pronunciation of the following imaginary sen- 
tence, (constructed to show every variety of measure,) 
were regulated by the pendulum, the results would be 
such as shall be presently stated. 



Fame 

A /. 

are 



7 7 
A .\ 
capable of ex 

A .% .\ 



Science 

A .\ 



7 7 

A .*. 



Liberty 

A /. /. 



citing 

A .*. 



hope, 7 

A /. 



fear 

A/. 



Spiritual 7 

A .\.\.\ A 

77 177 

A .\ A/. 



If a pendulum were employed to measure the bars of 
this unmeaning sentence, the word "fame" being a sylla- 
ble of quantity, might be prolonged, so as to occupy two 
swings; the remission taking place in the latter part of 
the word, on the sound of the m : the silent bar would 
consume the time of two more ; " science" that of the two 
next; the silent bar the time of the following two; "li- 
berty" that of the two next; " spiritual" that of the suc- 
ceeding two ; the rest 7 marked in the next bar, would 
consume the time of one swing, the word " are" in that 
bar the other ; the measure of Jive syllables, rapidly utter- 
ed, might be crowded into the time of the next two 
swings; " hope" again would take the time of a single 
swing, and the rest 7 following it, would employ the time 
of the next ; the word "fear" might be made by quanti- 
ty to occupy the two remaining swings. In this experi- 
ment, the integral measures would be the same in dura- 
tion, while their quotional parts would differ from one 
syllable, to five. Avery conspicuous variety, as respects 
the ear, would be produced by the number and rapidity 
of the syllabic impulses of some of the measures, as com- 
pared with others. We are now prepared for a definition 
of syllabic Rythmus. 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 



131 



form." 

A .\ 



Rythmus consists in an arrangement of syllabic mea- 
sures, distinguishable by the ear, divided more or less by 
pauses, and of more or less obvious proportion in their 
periods and responses. 

Verse, as will be seen presently, is made of a regular 
succession of like measures, or of measures of so limited 
a variety, and so divided by pauses, into proportioned 
parts, as to present sensible responses at certain intervals, 
to the ear. 

Measures consisting, for the most part, of two syllables, 
the first accented or heavy, the second unaccented or 
light, make up what is called common time poetry. 

"Mortal nature lifts her changeful 

A .\ A .\ A ,\ A .*. 

The rythmus in which the measure of three syllables 
predominates is called triple time poetry. 

Came to the beach a poor exile of Erin. 

A .\ .\ A .\ /. A .'. .\ J A .\ 

All poetry is based upon one of these two measures. 
It is true, indeed, that occasional bars are occupied oth- 
erwise than by measures of two and three syllables. Im- 
perfect measures must occur : rests of various duration 
are required, and sometimes measures are composed of 
a different number of syllables from the standard. The 
magic of the poet's art consists in such a nice adjustment 
of these quotional parts, both as respects the syllabic im- 
pulses, and the impressive rests, as shall produce agreea- 
ble variety, without disturbing the regular mechanism of 
his verse : and a large portion of its harmony and 
smoothness lies in the management of this department of 
his art 

The following line of Dryden is in common measure, 



132 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



but the agreeable flow of the numbers arises from the 
variety of the syllabic impulses distributed through the 
bars, and the peculiar adjustment of the rests. 

forced by 

A .\ 



Arms and the 


Man I 


sing 


77 


who 7 


A .'. /. 


A .% 


A/. 


A/. 


A /. 




fate 7 












A 


.*. 











7 My 
A .% 



eye des- 

A .\ 



veys 

A .\ 

strays. 
A /. 



The following lines are also in coipmon measure, but 
every one feels the effect of the rapidity of the syllabic 
impulses crowded into the time of one of the bars of the 
first line. 

mding from the hill sur- 
^ A .\ /. A .\ 

7 Where Thames a- I mong the wanton vallies 

A .% A /. I A .'. A /. A /. 

The poetry which preceded the revolution of 1688, 
is superior in its rythm, as well as in fire and comprehen- 
sion, to that which followed, with perhaps two exceptions ; 
the blank verse of Milton, and the finer parts of Dryden. 
This latter poet has much greater variety in the mechan- 
ism of his verse, than Pope and his imitators. The finest 
lines of Pope, are those in which he has disregarded 
the finger counting prosody, by which he seems to 
have been habitually regulated ; and which substituted, 
the consideration of the number of syllables in a line, for 
that of the structure of the measures. Much of the po- 
etry of his time, and which followed it, is well described 
in the following lines of its great projenitor himself. 

Grove nods to grove, each alley has its brother; 
And half the platform just reflects the other. 

He might have found the promptings to a higher strain, 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 133 

in the spirit of some other lines of his, which truly de- 
scribe the versification of some of the great masters of 
song who preceded him. 

" Where crder in variety we see, 

And where though all things differ, all agree." 

Of all our poets, Shakspeare and Milton are the most 
distinguished for the happy mechanism of their verse. In 
their free use of quantity, in the variety of the syllabic 
impulses of their measures, and in the adjustment of their 
pauses, they ring every change of rythm of which the 
language is susceptible; undulating through each de- 
scription of measure, from the long drawn time of a single 
syllable, to that of four, and in an order that ever charms 
the ear. 

" In notes with many a winding bout 
Of linked sweetness well drawn out, 
With wanton heed, and giddy cunning, 
The melting voice through mazes running; 
Untwisting all the chains that tie 
The hidden soul of Harmony." 

i: Allegro. 

The scored extracts contained in this Grammar, will 
display to the eye the variety of the rythm which distin- 
guishes the verse of these great masters of the lyre : but 
it must be read as it is scored in order to do them " fair 
justice ;" to show how appropriate, a vehicle it is, for the 
glorious thoughts and images which it conveys, or rather 
which "voluntary move" its " harmonious numbers. 5 ' 

The most perfect measures are those occupied by two 
or three syllables ; and which may be called common or 
triple measures. The measure next in the order of pre* 

12 



134 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



valence, may be termed emphatic ; it consists of a single 
syllable, so protracted in quantity, as to admit in its pro- 
nunciation, of the accented and unaccented function of 
the voice. The combined stately and lyrical effect of 
much of Milton's poetry, depends on the nice adjustment 
of these respective measures. The following are striking 
examples. 



Hail 


holy 


light 7 


offspring of 


heaven 


first 7 


A .\ 


A/. 


A .'. 


A /. /. 


A /. 


A .*. 


born. 










A .% 











Milton frequently uses a measure of four syllables, 
which may be called the accelerated measure, from the 
rapidity with which the syllables must be uttered, to be 
crowded within the time of the musical bar. 

The following is an instance of great variety, with the 
occasional use of the quadruple measure. 



Rocks 7 



7 A 

A >\ 



Caves 7 

A .\ 

dens and 

A /. 

universe of 

A/. /. .\ 



lakes 7 

A /. 

shades of 

A 

xleath 7 

A ,\ 



fens 7 

A ,\ 

death 

A /. 

7 which 

A .% 



bogs 7 
A .\ 



God by 

A .\ 



curse 

A /. 

7 Cre- I ated 

A ,*. I A .\ 
good; 

A 



7 Where 

A /. 



all 

A/. 



7 and 
A .\ 



evil 

A /. 



life 7 

A .% 

nature 



7 7 
A.\ 



7 for 

A .\ 



evil 

A/. 



dies 7 

A .% 

breeds 7 

A /. 



77 

A/. 



death 7 

A .\ 



only 

A .*. 



lives? 

A .\ 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 



135 



7 Per 


- 


verse, 


? 


all 


monstrous 


77 




all pro- 


A .\ 


A /. 


A/. 


A .\ 


A A 


A .*. 


digious 


tilings; 7 




A ,\ 


A 




7A- 


bominah 


e 


7 un- 


utterable 


7 and 


worse 


A .\ 


A .". .'. .\ 


A A 


A .'. /. .\ 


A .*. 


A .\ 


7 Than | fables 


yet have 


feigned or 


fear con- 


A .'. 




1 A .\ 




A 


.*. 




.*. 


.*• 


A 



7 7 

A/. 



ceived 7 
a A 
Gorgons and 

A .-. .\ 



dire. 7 
A 



7 7 
A .\ 



Hydras 

A .*. 
77 
A / 



7 and Chi- 

A .\ .'. 



meras 

A .\ 



Milton and Shakspeare frequently interpose a syllable 
in their lines, above the authorized number ; thus, 

" Hov-e-ring a space, till winds the signal blow, 
Who durst defy th-e Omnipotent to arms, 
To beg the voice and utt-e-rance of my tongue ? 
Abom-i-nable, unutt-er-able, and worse," etc. 

This grace note of the line, which makes an essential 
part of the musical bar, without disturbance to the mea- 
sure, and with an increase of the general harmony, some 
finger counting critics, strike out by elision, to show, I 
suppose, that they understand measure better than did 
the poet. In the editions of these sage revisers, the lines 
would stand thus ; 

u Hovering a space, etc., 

Who durst defy #ro??i-nipotent to arms, 

To beg the voice and w^'-rance, M etc. 

Whoever has opportunity of inspecting the old editions 
of our great bards, will find that their nearer presence 



136 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

prevented the commission of these barbarities upon their 
verse. The knowing personages above mentioned, had 
better be told once for all, that the lines cannot be har- 
moniously read upon the principle of their elision : they 
are therefore earnestly besought, in future to betake 
themselves to other amusement, than that of deforming 
the fair pages of English poetry, to the great annoyance 
of all ears but such as their own. 

The measure of five syllables is almost always incon- 
venient in utterance, and should be broken up, by a rest, 
into two portions. The | voice | 7 is in- 



capable of 



sus- 



taining it | 7 with ag- | reeable | effect. 



Neither Milton nor Shakspeare, ever employ a mea- 
sure of more than four syllables : and this must, necessa- 
rily, be greatly accelerated. 

It will be seen, that many of the lines of English verse 
begin with an imperfect measure, as the musical line 
does: but as every measure is supposed perfect, the 
part that is wanting, is always indicated by the rest, in 
order that the principle of the theory may be maintained 
throughout. Another important fact connected with the 
measure, requires to be stated. It is, that in order to 
produce harmonious succession, the voice must percepti- 
bly move from the heavy to the light syllable, and not 
from the light to the heavy one. This movement pre- 
vails in music, and it is equally necessary in speech. 
The heavy syllable always begins the bar, in the order of 
the movement, or the exceptions are accounted for by the 
mark 7, and the principle of the theory is thus main- 
tained^ 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 137 

The scoring in the exercises, will demonstrate the 
same necessity for measure in prose, as in verse ; the 
only difference in the mechanism of the two, consists 
in the more frequent changes in the quotional parts of the 
measures of prose, and in the absence of the regular re- 
sponses which are found in verse. We have here en- 
deavoured to demonstrate the true principles of English 
prosody. If we are not mistaken, such a view as we 
have presented of measure, in what has been already said, 
will throw some light both on composition and delivery. 
One of the most effectual methods of impressing a just 
prosody upon the ear, is by teaching the art of reading. 
The prosody makes an essential part of the tune of 
speech, if we may be allowed the term, and in its proso- 
dial arrangement, lies one half of its charm. The me- 
chanism of good composition, consists in the happy ad- 
justment of quantity and accent, subject to a varied and 
harmonious measure ; and over these the ear presides. 

To teach reading, on the principle of a just prosody, 
is to teach writing at the same time, as far as its mechan- 
ism is concerned. We have therefore deemed it proper 
to present a series of rythmical copies for the use of 
students, calculated to form their ear and voice upon the 
principles of prosody we have explained. 

But this is not all ; the preservation of health and life 
is often suspended on the habits of a speaker with regard 
to measure. A speaker who preserves his measure, will 
never be inconvenienced for want of breath, and will, by 
favor of that circumstance, always be able to employ 
force where it is wanted, with full effect ; and what is 
more, with safety to his health. On this account also, I 
have deemed it necessary to present in this work* such a 

12* 



138 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

series of scored exercises as may form the habit of read- 
ing and speaking by measure. They are sufficiently nu- 
merous for that purpose, if the pupil exercises his own 
ear by scoring the pieces in another book, by way of 
practice, and then compares what he has done with what 
is to be found here. 

But the importance of measure as regards the health 
and safety of persons devoted to public speaking, deserves 
a separate and more particular consideration. As we 
before observed, the larynx performs the double function 
of an organ subservient to respiration, and to speech. 
During the emission of sound in the latter, inspiration 
cannot take place. Hence discourse must be broken up 
into portions. A very little attention will enable a person 
to perceive that pauses occur much oftener than is indi- 
cated by the common marks of punctuation. The me- 
thod of notation adopted in the Exercises, is intended to 
show that the beginning and end of a measure is the be- 
ginning and end of one effort of the larynx, and that all 
the pauses indicated by the mark % are to be observed 
in delivery. The pauses make an essential part of the 
measures. To prove the importance of observing these 
in delivery, let a person read with considerable force one 
of the pieces, say Henry's address to his troops before 
the gates of Harfleur, with a frequent neglect of the rests 
indicated by the mark 7, he will frequently find himself 
out of breath. Let him then read \t y observing the no- 
tation, with as much force as he can command, and with 
a quick measure, such as the piece requires, and he will 
find that no inconvenience with regard to respiration, will 
occur. A few physiological considerations will account 
fox these facts,, 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 139 

It is to be recollected that by the measured action of 
the heart, a certain quantity of blood is brought at each 
pulsation of the heart to the lungs, for the purpose of 
coming into contact with the inspired air, received through 
the larynx. The moving powers, external to the chest, 
together with the intercostal muscles, elevate and de- 
press the chest by alternate actions, so regulated as to 
correspond with the action of the heart, and consequent- 
ly with the flow of blood to the lungs. But as during 
speech, there can be no inspiration, speech must be so 
regulated, as not to interfere with the functions described, 
or it must be, in proportion to its interference, injurious to 
respiration and health. Now the fact turns out to be, 
that if speech is regulated by measure, no impediment is 
offered to the process of respiration, and that fact is pro- 
ved by the circumstance, which I here announce without 
fear of contradiction, and subject to experiment, namely, 
that if the pauses marked out by the scoring, are regular- 
ly observed, there never will be any inconvenience expe- 
rienced from want of breath : that elocution, if conducted 
on the principles of the prosody here explained, and fully 
set forth in the exercises, will be found (where no actual 
disease exists in the lungs,) a healthful and invigorating 
exercise. 

If this is true, it demonstrates that die measure of 
speech, originates in the measured action of the heart, 
and of the moving powers of the chest. Speech and 
circulation are sometimes to go on for a considerable 
length of time together, and the action of the larynx is 
directly related to the times of the return of the blood 
from the heart to the lungs, in other words to the circu- 
lating powers. The Prosody, here explained, ascertains 



140 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

and shews the laws of that action. Their effect is to 
produce such a movement of the organ of voice, as shall 
not disturb the influx and efflux of air required, at sta- 
ted intervals, to renovate the vital fluid. 

If these principles of physiology are sound, as I am 
persuaded they are, then, it is of great importance that 
the method of teaching reading and public speaking, here 
insisted upon, be adopted : not merely because a correct 
prosody is graceful and harmonious, but because, the 
observation of measure in speech is necessary to the ex- 
ercise of its functions with safety to the health, and often 
to the lives, of those who follow it as a profession. If I 
might venture to refer to personal experience, I might 
say that it is a matter of surprise to my acquaintance, that 
I am able to endure, without destruction of health, the 
amount of forcible speaking which I daily practice, but 
perhaps, the preceding observations may account for it in 
a satisfactory manner. 

The law of speech, which I have here explained, is 
one of a series of laws, bearing a common relation to 
one another, and to the vital functions of the body. It 
will be found, in addition to the facts already stated, that 
the pauses which are marked out in the exercises, cannot 
be neglected without injury to the harmony and the sense. 
In other words, that speaking which is regulated by 
measure, and the consequent exact observation of the 
rests, is most agreeable and most intelligible. If a fre- 
quent omission of pauses is made, the sense will be invol- 
ved in obscurity. Here too, we see the beautiful result 
of those related laws of the living system, by the com- 
bined effect of which, a series of different, complicated 
and often apparently interfering functions, proceed for the 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 141 

benefit of the whole system. Measure is most easy to 
the speaker; by a beautiful law of relation it constitutes 
a prosody grateful to the hearer ; but the sensorial func- 
tions (what they are we pretend not to divine) are in 
their turn related to the vital ones ; for the speaking 
which is easy and harmonious, is also most intelligible. 
The pauses which are required for easy respiration, for 
the harmonious flow that delights the ear, disentangle the 
sense and enable the mind to perceive the relations of 
thought with facility and clearness. But there are ob- 
jectors, we may be sure, who will urge, that if this sys- 
tem were true, it would be natural to speak in perfect 
measure. All persons who speak agreeably and smooth- 
ly, and we now and then hear such, do speak for the 
most part by measure. But we admit, most do not ; and 
we assert that all who do not, speak with great inconven- 
ience and exhaustion to themselves. We maintain 
against all the admirers of natural faults, and the decri- 
ers of artificial excellence, that it is not natural to do any 
thing well, which is liable to disturbance, from ignorance, 
and the irregularity of the will, and, consequently, from 
faulty habits. The action of the organ of voice is vol- 
untary, but the circulation is not, hence the one is liable 
to disturbance from the causes just stated, which is not 
the case with the other. Simplicity in thought and ex- 
pression is not natural. The power of saying just what 
is proper in an argument and no more, is not natural : 
ease and grace of execution in any art, is not natural t 
the art of speech among the number. The fine arts do 
not look to what is natural but to what is agreeable. 
Their principle is founded on the approbation of taste,, 
not on the habits of the multitude. In all matters where 



142 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

choice is exercised it is not the concern of philosophy to 
defend what is, but to shew what ought to be. 

We invite the reader to go into a school of young per- 
sons with this grammar in his hand ; let them be called 
upon to read some of the pieces it contains, out of an- 
other book. He will soon be made sensible of the im- 
portance of marking the accent and pauses, by the frequent 
violations of them, which he will instantly hear. He will 
see how important they are as fundamental points, in the 
art of reading, to easy, harmonious, and intelligible de- 
livery. The habit of reading with attention to them, is 
very rare, though health, ease of speaking, and a clear 
picture of the sense of what is read, require it. We 
therefore, have thought it best to teach the mode of read- 
ing, as writing is taught, by " setting copies" for the pu- 
pil. Those copies will enable him, if he is attentive, to 
score for himself ; they will fix the habit of right reading, 
— a habit he will never lose — and which will be found of 
immense importance to future health and comfort.* 



QUESTIONS TO RECITATION ELEVENTH. 

1 . What constitutes a measure in speech ? 

2. What is meant by an imperfect measure ? 



* Some years ago I published a book of scored exercises ; 2000 
copies were sold. I am assured by numerous Teachers in Philadel- 
phia, who have used them, that they have led to a great reforma- 
tion in the reading of their schools. They compel young persons 
to read deliberately, and mind their stops. 



MEASURE OF SPEECH. 143 

3. Demonstrate with the voice the measure of a sin- 
gle syllable. 

4. One of two syllables. 

5. One of three. 

6. One of four. 

7. One of five. 

8. What is the greatest number of syllables which can 
be crowded into a measure ? 

9. How is rythmus defined ? 

10. What are the measures on which verse is bawd? 

1 1 . How is verse distinguished from prose 3 

12. What constitutes an agreeable rythm ? 

13. The student is required to score the first section 
of the apostrophe to the Queen of France, Elocutionist, 
page 12, and the three sections of Gray's Elegy, Elocu- 
tionist, page 260. 



RECITATION TWELFTH* 



EMPHASIS. 

Having now given an account of the elements of 
speech, which may be called the working materials of 
the reader and speaker, we proceed to show their appli- 
cation, in expressing in a forcible manner, the sentiments 
and emotions of the mind. Nothing will demonstrate 
more clearly, the importance of elementary investigation, 
than the fact, that all those powers of the voice which it 
has enabled us to record, are employed in emphasis : 
sometimes singly, but oftener in combination : for we 
must here observe, that though in describing the separate 
powers, we speak of them as such, yet in the expression 
of our sentiments, they are almost always combined. 
There is a natural tendency to crowd elements together 
when words are employed emphatically. They are, 
then, frequently, the symbols of our feelings, and the dif- 
ferent functions of the voice are summoned, not in the 
order we have described them, but in every possible 
combination, in order to give utterance to those feelings. 
We shall speak, however, in the first place, of the effects 
of the different elements separately, in producing em- 
phasis. 

Emphasis is that employment of the voice by which 
some syllables, and consequently the words which they 
constitute, or of which they make a part, are rendered 
specially impressive, by means of increased stress, pe- 
culiar quality of voice, quantity, or change of pitch, or by 



EMPHASIS. 145 

the combination of an)' two or more of these. We shall 
not, in this Recitation, discuss the application of empha- 
sis, but only show the ways by which it is accomplished. 
A perception of the grammatical construction of a pas- 
sage, of its special meaning, of the kind and amount of 
feeling it is intended to convey ; in a word, of the rela- 
tions of thought in the author's mind, are the circumstan- 
ces which must regulate the application of emphasis to 
syllables, words, and portions of sentences. Precise 
rules cannot be laid down for this. We can only recom- 
mend a nice and rigid analysis of the import of what is 
read, in order that emphasis may be employed with cor- 
rectness. 

Emphasis of radical stress — so denominated by Dr. 
Rush, Phil. Hum. Voice. It is effected by giving mark- 
ed percussion to the utterance of those syllables which re- 
quire its use. It expresses a variety of emotions, according 
to the tenor of the subject. It is appropriate to anger, 
wrath, rage ; also to mirth, raillery, positiveness of con- 
viction, confidence, exultation, joy, courage, authority, 
command, and to all states of violent feeling. A change 
in radical and concrete pitch, and short quantity, are ge- 
nerally required with this kind of emphasis. 

The following are examples. The syllables are itali- 
cised on which the percussion is most strongly made. 

EXAMPLE 1. 

" Whence and what art thou, er-ecrable shape?" 

Milton. 

The speeches both of Satan and Death, are marked 
by a high degree of radical stress. See Elocutionist, 
page 341, sect. 7, 8, 9. 

13 



146 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

EXAMPLE 2. 

68 And reck-onest thou thyself with spirits of heaven, hell 
doomed ? 

" Sir, I, in the most express terms, deny the comp- 
etency of parliament to do this act." 

In this example, the voice adopts a falling slide, to in- 
crease the positiveness and antithetic expression of the 
syllable " comp," and thus adds to its emphasis. 

The following sentence will show a series of emphatic 
words, each requiring very marked percussion. 

" Back to thy pwn-ishment 
False /w-gitive, and to thy speed add wings." 

The rise of a radical fifth, upon the word " back" the 
fall of a fifth on "punishment " a rise again through the 
same interval on "false" and another falling fifth on "fu- 
gitive" will greatly enhance the emphatic character of 
the words above cited. The word " add" should have 
a high note with downward slide. 

Examples of emphasis will of course, if read with pro- 
per expression, generally display a combination of ele- 
ments. For purposes of illustration, we must refer, in 
the respective examples, to such as are found prominent- 
ly marked. But we shall mention in each case, the 
most obvious combinations ; because this mediod, if not 
the most philosophical, will prove the most instructive to 
the student. 

Where strong percussion is employed to emphasise a J 
word or words, the emphasis is often enhanced by a highj 
note, and a downward slide. 

EXAMPLE 1. 

I teU you, that if, circumstanced as you are, you pasi 



EMPHASIS. 147 

this act, it will be a nullity, and that no man in Ireland 
will be bound to obey it. Elocutionist, page 6. 

The rise in the note, makes a more lively picture, es- 
pecially as contrasted with the intense downward slide : 
these with percussion, emphasise a short syllable very 
powerfully ; but there is more of authoritative dignity in a 
lower pitch, that is, in simple percussion, without rise of 
note. 

EXAMPLE. 

Sir, I thank administration for this measure. 

The confidence here expressed, will be diminished by 
a rise of note upon the word " thank" 

The following extract, from Collins' Ode, if read dra- 
matically, will exhibit the radical stress upon the emphatic 
syllables. 

Last came Joy's extatic trial. 
He, with viny crown advancing, 
First to the lively pipe his hand addressed ; 
But soon he saw the brisk awakening viol, 
Whose A sweet entrancing voice he loved the best. 
They would have thought, who heard the strain, 
They saw, in Tempe's vale, her native maids, 
To some unwearied minstrel dancing ; 
While, as his flying ringers kissed the strings, 
Love framed with mirth, a gay fantastic round ; 
Loose were her tresses seen, her zone unbound; 
And he, amidst his frolic play, 
As if he would the charming air repay, 
Shook thousand odours from his dewy wings. 

Emphasis of median force, or median stress. 

In this emphasis, as has been already stated, the force 



148 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

increases upon the syllable gradually, is greatest in the 
middle, and then gradually declines to the usual vanish; 
though sometimes the force increases to the end of the 
syllable. 

This emphasis will exalt the import of words of long 
quantity, to which, it is, from its nature, exclusively appli- 
ed. It is most appropriate to dignified subjects; to words 
which convey awful warning, smooth insinuation, reve- 
rential awe, sublime exultation, the lofty but chastised 
emotions of personal and religious veneration, of sober 
enthusiasm, joy, hope, and surprise. When united with 
the downward slide, it is often a very striking emphasis. 

EXAMPLE 1. 

I warn you, do not dare to lay your hand on the con- 
stitution, 

EXAMPLE 2. 

" We praise thee, O God, we acknowledge thee to be 
the Lord" 

EXAMPLE 3. 

Horatio. He was a goodly king, 
Hamlet. He was a man. 

In this example, the word man has a strong falling 
slide. 

Juliet. Oh swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon. 
That monthly chang-es in her circled orb. 

" We knoiv what we worship, for salvation is of the 
Jews." 

" And Nathan said untQ David, Thou art the man,'* 



EMPHASIS. 149 

The smoothness of flattery cannot now avail : cannot 
save us in this rugged and awful crisis. 

Emphasis applied at the vanish of a syllable, or em- 
phasis of vanishing stress. — This and the compound 
stress, need not be disunited in our illustrations. They 
express ardent impatience, angry complaint, threatening 
vengeance, and earnest interrogation. 

Compound stress. — Arm, warriors, arm for fight 
Vanishing. Cassius. — I an itching palm 9 

You know that you are Brutus that speak this, 
Or by the Gods, this speech were else your last. 

Brutus. The name of Cassias honors this corruption. 

And chastisement does therefore hide its head. 

Cassius. CTias-tisement ! 

Brutus. Must I give way to your rash choler ? 

Must I be frighted when a mad-man stares ? 

Cassius. O ye Gods, ye Gods, must I endure all this ? 

The first and last of these examples, are given by Dr, 
Rush, in his Philosophy of the Human Voice. 

Hamlet. Saw who ? 

Horatio. My lord, the king, your/a-ther. 
Hamlet. The king my/a-ther ? 
Hamlet. 'Tis I, Ham-let, the Dane. 

This last, is, I think, an example of compound stress. 

The following, I think will best read with a mixture of 
radical and compound stress. 

" The game's afoot; 
Fol-low your spirit, and upon this charge, 
Cry God for Har-ry, jEJ«g^-and, and Saint George* 

13* 



150 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Emphasis of quantity. — Avery extended time given 
to words, exalts their import. It is applicable only to 
syllables of long quantity, and to dignified and pathetic 
subjects. It describes time, quality, and the properties 
of things generally. 

The following are conspicuous examples of quantity. 

" Nine times the space that measures day and night, 
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
Lay vanquished." 

" But his doom 
Reserved him to more wrath." 

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven. 

" Darkened so, yet shone 
Above them all, the arch-a^-gel." 

" Or of the eternal co- eternal beam ; 

This knows my punisher." 

In thy sight shall no man living be justified. 

Sometimes this long quantity is united with the semi- 
tone ; the following are examples. 

'• Spare thou those, O God, who confess their faults." 
" Res-fore thou them that are penitent." 

The whole of these two last sentences require a plain- 
tive movement ; but the words marked in italics, require 
a great deal of quantity to distinguish them from the 
others. 

Emphasis of pitch. — Words receive emphasis by dif- 
fering in their concrete and radical pitch, from other 
words which accompany them* 



EMPHASIS. 151 

Slide of the rising octave. — This is employed in In- 
terrogation, of the most piercing and earnest kind ; and also 
when a question is accompanied with strong sneer, with 
raillery, and mirthful banter. The following are instances. 

Shylock. What should I say to you, should I not say 
Hath a dog money ? Is it possible 
A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? 

The last quoted, is a fine example, and is given by 
Dr. Rush, Philosophy of the Human Voice. 

Falstaff. A king's son ? You, Prince of Wales ? 

Discrete rising octave. 

" So frowned the mighty combatants, that hell 
Grew darker at their frown, so matched they stood." 

This interval should be heard on the word "matched" 
in the dramatic reading, or public declamation of this 
piece. Elocutionist, page 344, sect. 12. 

Rising concrete bth. — This is employed in earnest in- 
terrogation and emphasis. 

EXAMPLE. 

Hamlet. Saw who ? 

Horatio. My lord, the king, your father ? 

Hamlet. The king, my/a-ther? 

Rising radical bth. 

EXAMPLES. 

" And shouted but once more aloud, 
My Father I must I stay ?" 

Elocutionist, page 5289, sect. 7. 



152 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

" Is there, as you sometimes tell us, 

Is there one who reigns on high ? 
Has he bid you buy and sell us, 

Speaking from his throne, the sky ?" 

Elocutionist, page 306, sect 4. 

" He woke to hear his sentry's shriek, 

To arms ! they come I The Greek I The Greek !" 

Elocutionist, page 308, sect 3. 

Rising concrete and radical third. — The rising con- 
crete third, is appropriate to that kind of interrogation 
employed for the mere purpose of information. It is 
also employed for emphasis and especially for the pur- 
pose of marking emphatic words which are conditional 
and concessive. 

Concrete. 

" What, looked he frovm-ingly ? 
His beard was grizzled ?" 

Radical. 

" If thou hadst known the gift of God> 

And who it is that saith to thee, give me to drink," etc. 

The words in the last example, marked in italics, are, 
as may be seen, conditional, and require, for empha- 
sis, to be raised a third in radical pitch. 

EMPHASIS OF THE DOWNWARD SLIDE AND OF DOWNWARD 
RADICAL PITCH. 

A command over the downward slide, and over the 
downward radical movements, is of the utmost importance 
to all who wish to read or speak with effect. In the first 
place the downward movements of the voice are in them- 



EMPHASIS. 153 

selves very expressive : besides which a ready use of 
them enables a speaker to avoid the monotony of a 
constant or too frequent rise in his emphatic words. This 
is a very common fault of delivery. 

The falling slide marks exclusive emphasis. It insu- 
lates a word from the rest of the sentence, and seta it in 
a more prominent and imposing point of view than any 
other modification of pitch. It expresses strong convic- 
tion — is required in positive assertion, in denunciation, 
in the expression of indignation, and indignant resolve, 
and is peculiarly proper in all cases where solemnity is 
combined with emphasis. The intensity of the down- 
ward slide differs in the various forms of an octave a 
fifth and a third, concrete and discrete. 

The following example will show the downward slide 
of the voice, in different degrees of intensity. The 
first word marked in italics is to be made a downward 
third — the next may be a fifth, and the climax may be 
completed upon the word " there" by the most intense 
form of the downward slide, that of an octave. 

" If I ascend into Heaven thou art there ; if I make 
my bed in Hell, behold thou art there ; if I take the 
wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of 
the sea, ev-en there, shall thy hand lead me and thy right 
hand shall hold me." 

It will be necessary first to elevate the voice upon the 
word " there," in order to carry the slide low enough to 
exhibit its intensest form. 

Emphasis of the downward concrete fifth. " J am 
the resurrection and the life." 

' ■ And Nathan said unto David, Thou art the man." 



154 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Discrete. Army of fiends^ body to Jit head. 

Sarcasm can always be expressed upon a succession 
of short syllables by alternate rising and falling radical 
fifths combined with stress. Where it becomes necessa- 
ry to express a sneer and the syllables are too short for the 
slide of the unequal wave, the discrete fifths fulfil its of- 
fice, as they do in this last example. Let the first "Jit" 
descend a fifth in radical pitch below " body" and " head" 
a fifth below the second "Jit" and the effect we contem- 
plate will be produced. 

Falling concrete third. " I am amazed, yes my 
Lords, I am amazed at his Grace's speech." 

Discrete Jailing third. " He that believeth in me, 
though he were dead, yet shall he live." " Believest 
thou this ?" The " this" descends a third for emphasis, 
and ends with a rising slide. 

" Ye know not what ye worship, We know what we 
worship." 

The following is an example of variety in emphasis. 
The syllables intended to be specified are in italics. 

1. Are they He-brews? So am I. 

2. Are they is-raelites ? So am I. 

3. Are they the seed of «y26-raham ? So am I. 

4. Are they Ministers of Christ ? I am more. 
Let No. 1 rise both discretely and concretely. 

" 2 fall discretely and rise concretely. 
" 3 fall concretely a third. 
" 4 rise higher than the last discretely, and fall 
concretely with stress. 



EMPHASIS. 155 

Emphasis of waves. Waves are used only where 
quantity is required with marked emphasis. 

Equal direct wave of the third. 

" Upon the watery plain the wrecks are all thy deed. 

Equal direct wave of the fifth. 

"'•My sect thou seest." Paradise Lost, book 6, L 147. 

Whoever will turn to the passage, will find that the ex- 
ulting triumph is best expressed, by the long drawn 
time of this emphatic wave. 

The unequal direct waves are marked in italics, in the 
following passage. 

" National pride, independence of our country — these 
we are told by the minister, are only vul-gpx topics, fitted 
for the meridian of the mob ; but utterly un-worthy the 
consideration of this house, or of the matured under- 
standing of the noble lord who condescends to instruct it." 

Plunket. 

11 Hadst thou alleged to thy deserted host this cause of 
flight, thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive." 

Emphasis of the tremor. The tremor expresses ex- 
ultation, admiration, joy, rapture, when united with other 
intervals than the semitone. When combined with the se- 
mitone, it increases its effect. 

EXAMPLES. 

" Thou g-Zo-rious mirror where theAlmighty's form 
Glasses itself in tempests." 

" Now give the Hautboy's breath, he comes, he comes. :> 

" And where is the bosom friend, dearer than all." 
This last example requires the semitone. 
" Shook thousand odors from his dewy wings." 



156 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Emphasis of Aspiration. 

EXAMPLES. 

Brutus, Peace, peace, you durst not so have tempted him. 
Cassius. I durst not ! 

Guttural Emphasis. An example may be found in 
the reply of Pierre to Jaffier. 

" Whence these chains ? 
Whence the vile death, which I may meet this moment? 
Whence this dishonor, but from thee, thou false one r 

Emphasis of the semitone. 

EXAMPLE. 

u For I was as it were a Child of thee." Eloc. p* 282, sect. 8. 



A SERIES OF ADDITIONAL EXAMPLES OF EMPHASIS, WITH 
SHORT EXPLANATIONS OF THE PRINCIPAL ELEMENTS 
EMPLOYED. THE EMPHATIC SYLLABLES, ARE IN 
ITALICS. 

EXAMPLE 1. 

" Exercise and temperance, strengthen even an in- 
diff-erent constitution." 

This example shows a high note on the emphatic syl- 
lable, with a downward slide, and some little increase of 
percussive stress. 

EXAMPLE 2. 

" You were paid to fight against Alexander, not to rail 
at him." 

The antithesis is effected by a high note, downward 
slide, and percussive stress, on the first syllable, and a 



EMPHASIS, 157 

high note, long quantity, and downward slide, on the 
second. 

example 3. 

ki He raised a mortal to the skies ; 

She drew an ang-el dov:n" 

High note, with quantity and stress on the first sylla- 
ble ; rise of note, with downward slide upon the next ; 
high note, with quantity on the next ; intense downward 
slide on " she ;" rise of note with quantity and downward 
slide on " ang ;" intense downward slide on " down." 

EXAMPLE 4. 

" Seems, madam ? 
IS" ay it is, I know not seems. ; " 

Rise of note upon the " is," of a fifth, downward slide 
of the same, with extended quantity, and swell or median 
stress. 

example 5. 
<k The tempt-er, ere the ac-cu-ser of mankind." 

High note, downward slide, and percussive stress, on 
the short syllable " tempt ;" long quantity on the "cm." 

example 6. 

I had rather be theirs* man in that t'i7Z-age, than the 
sec-ond in Rome. 

High note on "first" with simple downward slide ; 
high note, deep downward slide, with stress, on " vil ;" 
low note, with stress on "sec;" downward slide on 
" Rome." 

EXAMPLE 7. 

A day, an hour, of virtuous liberty, is worth a whole 
e-ter-nity of bondage. 

14 



158 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

High note on "hour" with strong percussion, and 
deep downward slide; a rise of note, with deep down- 
ward slide, and median swell, on " ter" 

example 8. 

" I would not turn aside from my least pleasure, 
Though all thy force were armed to bar my way." 

High note on the " thy" with extended quantity, and 
inverted equal wave, of the second. 

example 9. 
'Tis base, and poor, unworthy of a man, 
To forge a scroll, so villainous and base, 
And mark it with a noble ladies' name. 

" Man" has a high note, with inverted equal wave of 
the third. 

EXAMPLE 10. 

'Tis well, we'll try the temper of your heart. 

" Try" has a high note, deep downward slide, with 
median stress. 

EXAMPLE 11. 

You are my Aus-band's friend, the friend of Alt-&mont. 

High note on " hus" with simple downward slide, and 
some stress ; the same on " Alt" A deep downward 
slide, would entirely change the meaning. 

These examples are taken from Walker's Elocution. 
It was my business to describe the elements employed 
upon them. 



EMPHASIS. 159 

QUESTIONS TO RECITATION TWELFTH. 

The student is required to exhibit the following instan- 
ces of emphasis. 

1 . Emphasis of percussion. 

2. Of quantity. 

3. Of median stress. 

4. Of vanishing stress. 

5. Of compound. 

6. Of a rising third, 

7. A rising fifth, 

8. An octave, 

9. Of a falling third, 

10. Of a fifth, 

11. Of an octave, 

12. Of an equal wave of the second, } tv , . 
■^ m , ' ■ TTl f Direct and m- 

13. Of the third, V yertedj 

14. Of the fifth, ) 

15. Of aspiration. 

16. Guttural emphasis. 

17. Of the semitone. 

18. Of an unequal wave. 



► Concrete and discrete. 



RECITATION THIRTEENTH. 



ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 

We have stated that speech expresses our sentiments, 
by the varied use of abruptness, force, time, pitch, and 
quality of voice. These are to be employed in deline- 
ating the special relations of thought, which it is the ob- 
ject of written language to disclose. The intellectual part 
of the Art of Elocution, consists in discovering these re- 
lations. In the plainest prose, there are points in almost 
every clause, which require to be pressed upon the atten- 
tion more than others ; but a thorough discovery of what 
these points are, requires nice analysis. After they are 
discovered, the properties of the voice which have been 
described throughout this grammar, if judiciously em- 
ployed, will always set them in a prominent light. I know 
not how the analysis of written language can be taught, 
otherwise than by the selection of a few instances in 
which its application is demonstrated. When the student 
knows there is such a thing as analysis necessary, in order 
to read in a correct and discriminating manner, and is 
shown, by a few examples, how it is effected, he will pro- 
ceed in other cases with increasing clearness by time and 
practice. 

The first instance we will select, is from Fox's History 
of James. It is a part of the account of the execution 
of the Earl of Argyle. 

" Having then asked pardon for his own faults, both of 
God and man, he would have concluded, but being remin-. 



ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 



161 



ded that he had said nothing of the ROYAL FAMILY, 
he adds, that he refers in that matter, to what he said, 
at his trial, concerning the test — that he prayed there 
never might be wanting one of the royal family to SUP- 
PORT the PROTESTANT RELIGION— and if any 
of them had swerved from the true faith he prayed God to 
turn their hearts, but at any rate TO SAVE HIS PEO- 
PLE FROM THEIR MACHINATIONS." 

It will be evident, on a just analysis of this passage, 
that the words " royal family" require to be strongly 
marked in the first clause, and to be cast into compara- 
tive shade in that in which they next occur. Here the 
support of the protestant religion, is evidently uppermost 
in the mind of the Earl, and the train of thought which 
is most prominent, is to be marked by the voice. The 
word " swerved" is a pointed allusion to the well known 
sentiments of the king, and requires to be designated as 
the leading idea of the next clause. The "true faith," 
is secondary here, as an object of attention; it is the 
swerving from it, which is the main sentiment. 

Again, the Earl prays that the heart of the king may 
be turned, but still more earnestly, that the people may 
he saved from the machinations of Popery. Now that 
this vivid picture of the thoughts of a man of strong feel- 
ings and stern opinions, should be in perfect keeping, all 
the parts we have enumerated, should occupy prominent 
stations in it. There are other nice modifications of 
thought in the passage, but the observations we have 
already made, will show what it is our object to display, 
the nature of the analysis on which we would insist. 

The subject may be considered under the following 
general heads. 

14* 



162 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

1. Portions of discourse to be prominently marked. 

2. Parts that require shade. 

3. Distant parts, intimately related to each other in the 
connection of thought, but separated to the eye by inter- 
vening matter. 

Before we produce examples under these respective 
heads, we would observe, that the important part of all 
words, (where they consist of more syllables than one,) 
is the accented syllable ; and the analysis will be render- 
ed more compendious, by bearing in mind that it gene- 
rally turns upon a few accented syllables ; — sometimes 
upon a single one. By recollecting this, the eye will 
run over these to discover their relations in the order of 
thought with each other, and by a little practice, will un- 
fold those relations with almost intuitive rapidity and 
clearness. 

1 . Exhibition of parts requiring strong light. 

I speak in the spirit of British LAW, which makes 
LIBERTY commensurate with, and inseparable from, 
British SOIL ; which proclaims even to the stranger 
and the sojourner, the moment he sets his foot upon 
British earth, that the ground on which he treads is 
HOLY, and CONSECRATED, by the genius of uni- 
versal emancipation. No matter in what language his 
doom may have been pronounced ; no matter what 
complection, incompatible with freedom, an Indian or 
African sun may have burnt upon him ; no matter 
in what disastrous battle his liberty may have been clo- 
ven down ; nor with what solemnities he may have been 
devoted upon the altar of slavery ; the moment he touches 
the sacred soil of BRITAIN, the altar and the God 



ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 163 

SINK together in the dust ; his soul walks abroad in her 
own majesty ; and he stands REDEEMED, REGE- 
NERATED, and DISENTHRALLED, by the IR- 
RESISTIBLE genius of universal emancipation. 

2. Parts that require shade. 

Parentheses, in particular, as interrupting and crossing 
the main current of thought, are of this description ; but 
they are to be shaded only because they do thus inter- 
rupt and cross that current; when intervening matter 
does this in other instances, the intrusiveness of its cha- 
racter should be marked by the voice. 

Parentheses are to be slurred. We have often stated, 
that varieties of stress, time, and pitch, exalt the meaning 
of discourse ; they may be so used as to depress its im- 
portance. In parentheses, and interrupting clauses ge- 
nerally, the pitch and force of the voice, is to be lowered ; 
the pitch, force, time, and quality of the voice, is to be 
alike, or nearly so, on all the syllables, and their quantity 
is to be abridged. A lower pitch, lessened force, quick- 
er time, and similarity of condition, in all the syllables as 
to stress, time, pitch, and quality of voice, then consti- 
tutes slurring — a most important function, and which we 
shall illustrate in a few marked instances, and not of pa- 
renthesis merely. 

The following may serve as examples of parenthesis. 
The slurred parts are in italics. 

" When, therefore, the Lord knew how the Pharisees 
had heard that Jesus made, and baptised more disciples 
than John, {though Jesus himself baptised not, but his 
disciples,) he left Judea and departed again into Galilee.'* 
St. John, ch. iv., v. 1. 



164 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

The miserable inhabitants, {flying from their flaming 
villages,) in part were slaughtered. Others, (without re- 
gard to sex, to age, to rank, or sacredness of junction, 
fathers torn from children, husbands from wives, enveloped 
in a whirlwind of cavalry, and amid the goading spears 
of drivers, and the trampling of pursuing horses,) were 
swept into captivity, in an unknown and hostile land. 

Repetition requires shade. 

He said unto THEM, he put clay upon mine eyes, and 
I washed, and do see. St. John, ch. ix., v. 15. 

Why is the man's statement of facts slurred in this 
instance ? Because it had been made before, as will be 
seen by reference to the chapter. A repetition of the 
same expressions, always requires to be slurred, unless 
intended to be emphatic for a particular purpose. Here 
is another instance. " And the son said unto his father, 
father, 1 have sinned against heaven, and before thee, and 
am no more worthy to be called thy son ; make me one of 
thy hired se?-vants." He had previously employed the 
same expressions. This is a very beautiful instance of 
the shading effect of the slur. 

Important clauses sometimes require that others 
should be slurred to place them in a strong light, by 
contrast. 

EXAMPLE. 

The smoothness of flattery cannot now avail — cannot 
SAVE us in this rugged and awful crisis. 

"When the wicked man turneth AWAY from the 
wickedness which he hath committed, and doeth that which 
is lawful and right, he shall save his soul alive." 



ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 165 

What PROFIT hath a man of all his labor, which he 
taketh under the sun. 

The thing which HAS been, it is that which SHALL 
be, and that which IS done, is that which SHALL be 
done, and there is no NEW thing under the sun. 

IS there any thing whereof it may be said, See, this is 
new? 

The capitals in the foregoing examples, show the em- 
phatic words; the italic letters, the slurred parts. 

The parts of discourse to which slurring may be appli- 
ed, must depend on the modifications of thought ; but 
when rightly employed, it is a great beauty of delivery. 
Good reading and speaking consists in the continual va- 
riety of light and shade, made by the proper adjustment 
of the functions of the voice, according to the importance 
of the matter subjected to its disposal. 

Examples of distant parts intimately related in grammat- 
ical or rhetorical connection and thought, but separated 
to the eye. 

And SEXD'ST HIM [shivering in thy playful spray* 
And howling to his Gods) WHERE happy lies 
His petty hope, in some near port or bay. etc. 

Childe Harold. 
Elocutionist, sect. 4. p. 283. 

The distant words always require some form of em- 
phasis, in cases like the above, to effect the proper vocal 
expression of their syntax, 

" THOU ! (glor'ous -mirror. v:here the Almighty's form 
Glasses itself in tempests.) in ALL time. 



166 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

[Calm or convulsed, in breeze, or gale, or storm, 
Icing the Pole, or in the torrid clime, 

Dark heaving) BOUNDLESS, ENDLESS, and SUBLIME. 

See Elocut., p. 283, sect. 7. 

About her middle round, 
A cry of HELL HOUNDS (never ceasing) BARKED, 
(With wide cerberian mouths full loud) and RUNG 
A hideous peal. 

The hell hounds barking, and (in so barking,) ringing 
a hideous peal, constitute the main current of the thought 
in this passage ; and this order of ideas is to be repre- 
sented by connecting the substantive " hell hounds" with 
the two verbs " barked" and " rung" and casting over the 
cross current which breaks in upon this order a strong 
shade. 

After dinner he retired, (as was his custom,) to his 
bedchamber, WHERE, (it is recorded,) he SLEPT 
quietly, for about a quarter of an hour. 

Elocut., p. 38, sect. 1. 

Few persons have ever read this passage to me, with- 
out giving it such an intonation as made "recorded" 
refer to the "bedchamber ;" whereas the word " slept," 
refers to the bedchamber, and the parenthesis is to be 
carefully separated from all connection with it. 

" And then he beheld, enjoying a sweet and tranquil 
SLUMBER, the man, who, (by the doom of him and 
his fellows,) was to DIE within the short space of two 

HOURS." 

The extraordinary fact is, that a man should sleep so 
near execution. Consequently, the connection between 
these two ideas, is to be revealed strongly by the voice. 



ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 167 

His FRIEND (who was apprised of the state he was 
in, and who naturally concluded he was ill,) OFFERED 
him some wine. 

The syntax here does not require observation. 

May THE LIKE SERENITY (in such dreadful 
circumstances,) and a DEATH EQUALLY GLORI- 
OUS, be the lot of all whom TYRANNY, (of whatever 
denomination or description,) SHALL, (in any age, or 
in any country,) CALL to expiate their virtues on the 
scaffold. 

The main current here is, " may the like serenity, and 
a death equally glorious, be the lot of all whom tyranny 
shall call to expiate their virtues on the scaffold." The 
cross currents so frequently interrupt the natural order 
of the thoughts, as to render this a scarcely tolerable 
passage. 

This last example, and several others which we have 
cited, shew the intimate connection between the arts of 
composition and delivery. This is a subject which can- 
not be pursued here. But, it must be obvious that such 
an analysis as is necessary to present a clear picture of 
thought in delivery, cannot fail to reveal, the latent beau- 
ties as well as defects of composition. The art of Rhe- 
toric cannot but derive assistance from that of Elocution ; 
since a careful consideration of the nice relations of 
thought, in written language is constantly necessary to its 
practice. 

Every exertion of it consists in the application of a 
subtle test, by which composition, as a medium of con- 
veying thought and sentiment, is tried. The arts of Rhe- 
toric and Delivery are therefore intimately related, and 



168 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

assist each other; and we may remind those who affect 
great zeal for the one, and contemn the other, of what Ba- 
con used to say, when he experienced a temporary diffi- 
culty, from two passages of scripture which he could not 
immediately reconcile. " Ye are brethren, why strive 
ye?" 

In terminating these remarks on the analysis of written 
language, I would take occasion to observe, that the fight 
application of the elements of the voice is not (in my 
opinion) to be expected from a multiplication of rules. 
Language is bestowed upon us for the purpose of setting 
forth our thoughts and feelings — but the modifications of 
these are so multifarious, and the methods of expressing 
them by the voice so numerous, that no system can 
bind the particulars of the art of Elocution into any 
thing like a complete series of grammatical rules. 
Hence all those who have attempted to give system- 
atic rules of inflection, (and the remark applies to other 
elements as well as to pitch,) have, in my humble view of 
the subject, involved themselves and their readers in 
confusion. I have not examined any of these rules with- 
out perceiving numerous exceptions to them, not stated by 
their authors : and the sense of the examples cited to 
exhibit particular combinations of the elements, may ge- 
nerally be expressed by other modes of the voice besides 
those insisted upon under the rules. All that can be done 
in the art of Elocution is, in my opinion, to insist on an 
exact analysis of written language — and to set forth the 
ELEMENTS of the voice, by a few obvious examples. 
In other cases than those exemplified the student must 
be left to use them for himself as circumstances may re- 
quire. This I am persuaded (from observation and ex- 



ANALYSIS OF WRITTEN LANGUAGE. 169 

perience as a teacher) is all that is necessary for the in- 
telligent; and the dull would be more troubled by multi- 
farious rules and exceptions, than by the difficulties which 
they seek to avert. Let the elements of an art be fairly 
unfolded, and a few conspicuous instances of their prac- 
tical application be afforded, and moderate ingenuity will 
effect the rest ; the right use of elements in other instan- 
ces is only a proper exercise of individual ability, and 
comes by a little practice. I am persuaded that he who 
attempts to push the science farther than this — to give 
(for instance) a detailed account of the possible applica- 
tions of inflection will involve himself in a labyrinth through 
the windings of which Ariadne's thread, if he had it, 
would not suffice to conduct him. 



15 



RECITATION FOURTEENTH. 



IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. 

Dr. Rush has described a kind of voice which, from 
its preeminent qualities, he denominates the OROTUND. 
In its highest condition, it is deep, full, strong, smooth, 
sonorous, and has a highly resonant or ringing character, 
like the sound of musical instruments. The person 
possessing it appears to labor under a slight hoarseness. 
This voice is highly agreeable to the ear, and is more mu- 
sical than the common voice. It is possessed by 
actors of eminence and is peculiarly adapted to set forth 
the beauties of epic and tragic composition. It is heard 
in its greatest perfection on the vowel sounds. 

I believe the quality of the voice is greatly dependent 
on management and cultivation. Experiments have con- 
vinced me that more depends upon the former, than on 
natural peculiarity. Indeed I am disposed to think that 
by attention to certain methods of forming sounds in the 
mouth, which I shall presently explain, voices may be 
rendered very much alike in their quality ; and that by 
forcible efforts properly and perseveringly made, in com- 
bination with such methods, most voices may be render- 
ed strong. Now quality and strength are the two cir- 
cumstances in which voices differ most from each other. 

The parts of the mouth, posterior to the palate, bound- 
ed below by the root of the tongue, above by the com- 
mencement of the palate, behind by the most posterior 
of the throat, and on the sides by the angles of the jaw, are 



IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. 171 

the seat of the deep voice I have described, if the 
tongue is retracted and depressed, and the mouth is open- 
ed, in such a manner as to favor the enlargement of the 
cavity described as much as possible, and any of the 
vowel sounds are then uttered with force and abruptness, 
and without calling other parts of the mouth into vibra- 
tion, in their passage through it, the orotund voice will be 
immediately exhibited, in a very high degree, and un- 
mixed in its quality. 

By practice in exploding the vowel elements, in the 
manner formerly described, it may be made to acquire 
increasing clearness and strength ; and may be varied in 
pitch like the common voice. But orotund voices are 
often husky and indistinct : that is to say, there is a want 
of brilliancy in some of the sounds, and consequently of 
distinct audibility in the elements. Under these circum- 
stances, many of the words spoken on the stage and else- 
where, under this modification of voice, are lost to the 
ear. More than this; experiments will show that if the 
vibrations are confined to the parts described, and 
the anterior parts of the mouth, (the roof especial- 
ly,) are made a mere passage for the orotund, force 
and sonorous clearness are very apt to be deficient. 
The voice will be deep, grave and dignified, but often, in- 
audible. There will be more or less of aspiration and 
huskiness. But, if in the condition of organs set forth 
above, the vowel elements are uttered, as before described, 
and are made, in the way to the external air, to vibrate 
against the centre of the bony arch of the palate, stretching, 
an extensive and reverberating vaulted cavity immediately 
over the passage of sound, the voice will at once be heard 
clear, full, and sonorous. The properties of clearness 
and musical resonance will be in proportion to the force 



172 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

of vibration made against the palatial part of the mouth. 
The resisting part of the palate is, I believe, the peculiar 
seat of the musical properties of the voice, by which I 
mean that clear resonance which is heard on well made 
musical instruments. Forcible compression of the air 
against the superior and hard parts of the mouth,asif it were 
to be driven through the centre of the head in its passage, 
increases the resonance, and therefore the approximation 
of the jaws, and tension of the tongue and cheeks, by in- 
creasing that compression, contribute to the result. 

For practice in the pure orotund, unmixed with the 
palatial, the directions may be condensed thus. Let 
each of the vowel elements be expelled from the most 
posterior part of the throat with as much opening force 
and abruptness as possible, and the long ones with ex- 
tended quantity, with the condition of the organs first 
described, and let the effort be so made as to exhaust as 
much as posssible the air contained in the chest upon 
each element. Endeavor to make the sounds as grave 
and hollow as possible. This method of sounding the 
elements will be apt to produce giddiness and hoarseness 
at first, and must therefore be prosecuted with care. By 
practice these inconveniences will cease, and as soon as 
they do, the elements should be daily sounded for some 
time in the manner described. 

Next let the elements be made as clear and sonorous 
as possible, by sounding them from the back part of the 
throat with the condition of parts first described, but 
ringing them in their passage against the palate as subse- 
quently pointed out. 

A peculiar nasal twang can be communicated to the 
elements by ringing them in the posterior nostrils; and 



IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. 17o 

they can be snuffled in the anterior by directing the vi- 
brations to the lower parts and edges of the anterior nos- 
trils. The more all kind of nasality however, is avoided, 
the more clear, sonorous, and satisfactory to the ear the 
voice will become. 

When the elements can be sounded, subject to the di- 
rections above given, let the attempt be made to sound 
words in this voice. As soon as single words can be 
uttered, of a pure orotund character, let attempts be made 
to sound sentences, and by degrees this voice will be 
heard upon successive syllables. At first, it will be mo- 
notonous, but practice will enable the student to vary his 
pitch with the orotund, as easily as with the natural voice. 

Now, though we do not recommend attempts to use this 
voice in speaking or reading, until long practice has pla- 
ced it at entire command, yet we can assure the student, 
that the elementary exercises here enjoined, will improve 
his natural voice. Their direct tendency is to impart depth, 
tone, strength, fulness, and smoothness. We ought here to 
insert a restricting clause, and say that this voice is not the 
voice employed in common and familiar subjects. It is 
more especially, the appropriate symbol of the dignified 
parts of epic and tragic poetry, and the more solemn por- 
tions of the scriptures. But a person cannot have an 
impressive delivery in public speaking, without the depth, 
force, and clearness of tone, which the practice necessary 
to attain the orotund, is the most effective method of ac- 
quiring. Some persons have a natural orotund. Those 
who have not, may certainly acquire it, except in some 
rare instances. 

15* 



174 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Loud vociferation. 

Frequent exercise of the voice, in declaiming aloud, 
with the utmost degree ofjorce, of which it is susceptible, 
is another sure mean of improving it. Persons in gene- 
ral, have no adequate notion of the degree to which the 
voice may be improved, by the daily habit of loud vocife- 
ration. As soon as this strong action of the voice can 
be employed without hoarseness, it ought to be maintain- 
ed for a considerable length of time, at once, (say half an 
hour,) and if the exercise is united with a perfect obser- 
vation of measure, it will be beneficial, rather than injuri- 
ous to health, and especially if prosecuted in the open 
air. There is a grave fulness of quality in all voices thus 
habitually exercised, which is at once grateful to the ear, 
and adequate to the purposes of public speaking. No 
person should attempt to address large public assemblies, 
whose voice has not been submitted to the gymnastic 
training here recommended, for some time. I have 
known a voice got up in a fortnight, by this practice, 
from comparative feebleness, into a well marked strength 
and fulness. 

Explosion, both of the vowels and consonants, as de- 
scribed, under the head of articulation, with the utmost 
degree of rending force and abruptness, should accompa- 
ny the above mentioned exercises. 

Compass of the voice as to pitch. 

Let the following sentence be begun with great loud- 
ness, in a very low pitch, and let the voice gradually rise, 
till it attains to its highest note, then let it descend again 
gradually, to the point at which it set out, terminate with 
its lowest note, maintaining great force throughout. 



IMPROVEMENT OF THE VOICE. 175 

Though you untie the winds, and let them fight 

Against the churches, though the yesty waves 

Confound and swallow navigation up: 

Though bladed corn be lodged, and trees blown down ; 

Though castles topple on their warden's heads, 

And nature's germins tumble altogether, 

Even till destruction sicken ? — Answer me. 

By this practice, a command over the scale will be 
obtained. 

Let sentences be selected requiring a low pitch. 
Solemn sentences are of this description. These are to 
be read with sustained force, in a very low pitch, with a 
view of strengthening the voice upon a low note. A high 
note is, in itself, more audible than a low one ; hence the 
voice is naturally inclined to rise as it increases in force ; 
on this account, it must be kept down while its volume is 
increased in these exercises. The following sentence 
will serve the purpose we have in view. 

" And I saw another angel fly in the midst of heaven, 
having the everlasting gospel to preach unto them that 
dwell on the earth, and to every nation, and kindred, 
and tongue, and people, saying with a loud voice, Fear 
God, and give glory to hrm; for the hour of his judg- 
ment is come : and worship him that made heaven, and 
earth, and the sea, and the fountains of water." Rev. 
c. 14, v. 6, 7. 

Other sentences should be read as loudly as possible, 
at the pitch of a person's common conversation ; and 
others again, at a much higher pitch ; and the reading at 
these respective points of compass, should be steadily 
continued for a considerable time, as an exercise. This 



176 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

exercise will produce fulness and clearness of note, 
throughout the voice's compass. 

Rapidity in reading. 

It will be found that the practice of reading with great 
rapidity and loudness, will increase the strength of the 
voice. It will enable a person to sound the elements 
with great distinctness, and to vary them with force and 
precision. We ought to observe, however, that the ra- 
pidity of the utterance should never be so great, as to 
prevent the exact sounding of every element, usually 
heard in the words. Rapid reading is also an excellent 
preparative for the proper management of parentheses, 
and parts of a passionate character, requiring a quick 
pronunciation. But it is of especial use in giving uner- 
ring precision, force, and distinctness, to the organs of 
speech in ordinary utterance, which are points of the ut- 
most importance to a public speaker. 

Let these exercises be steadily pursued, say for a 
single hour a day, for a few weeks only, and there are 
very few persons who will have to complain of want of 
force, loudness, compass, or good quality of voice, or of 
a feeble and confused enunciation. 

We conclude, by observing, that the practice here en- 
joined, must be followed by all who entertain any rea- 
sonable hope of speaking with power in public, to large 
assemblies. The choice lies between previous industry 
of preparation, or the anguish of disappointment when 
the trial comes. 



RECITATION FIFTEENTH. 



OF THE APPLICATION OF THE VOCAL ELE~ 
MENTS, IN EXPRESSING EMOTION. 

Loudness. 

This is appropriate to sentiments of great energy and 
earnestness, astonishment, exultation, rage, anger, joy, 
and others. 

Feebleness is appropriate to humility, sorrow, peni- 
tence, shame, apathy, and other sentiments allied to de- 
pression of mind. 

The intermediate degrees of force, belong to didactic 
subjects, from which passion is for the most part, exclu- 
ded to simple reading, to philosophical, critical, and pro- 
fessional lectures, etc. 

Increased rate of voice. 

A moderately quick rate of voice, is appropriate to all 
cheerful subjects, and such as approach the character of 
ordinary conversation. A quicker time is required in pa- 
rentheses, and in sections of discourse, which interrupt the 
main current of thought ; — also in the emotions of anger,, 
joy, mirth, and all the more animating passions. 

Slowness of voice, or slow time, on the contrary, is 
appropriate to all grave, solemn, dignified, and pathetic 
subjects. 



178 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Quality of voice. 

Familiar subjects are best expressed by the voice of 
common conversation, while serious, grand, and solemn 
ones, require the orotund fulness. In conversation, the 
voice of most persons is comparatively meagre ; it wants 
sonorous fulness, and seems to issue from the lips. 

The impression I receive from it, in some instances in 
which it seems particularly determined to the teeth and 
lips, might be expressed by the term lip bound ; and if 
the condition of the lips be inspected in persons whose 
voice is marked by the peculiarity I would now designate, 
they will be found to be more than usually compressed 
towards the teeth during speech. The voice, in order to 
sound full, should have free course. To borrow a home- 
ly phrase, the gangway should be kept perfectly clear. 

Its sonorous character should not be changed by 
determining its action to the teeth and lips, by partially 
closing the former, and compressing the latter : or by in- 
terfering with its exit, by an improper use of the tongue. 
When the elements are once formed, the mouth should 
be freely opened for their explosion. A voice proceed- 
ing from the throat, rung upon the roof of the mouth, and 
having free exit through the teeth, lips, and nose, and 
little modified by their action, will be most full, sonorous, 
and dignified. A nasal twang should be especially 
avoided. Persons frequently have this, who speak in 
spectacles, from their confining the current of air through 
the nose. 

The semitone. 

The semitone ought to be exclusively appropriated to 
plaintive subjects, and only to such as are very conside* 



EMOTION'. 179 

rably so. It cannot often be introduced into narrative 
reading. Pathetic subjects, if not highly plaintive, when 
read with a grave tone, and with long drawn time, will be 
sufficiently expressive without the semitone. The pa- 
thetic character of the language itself, being enough to 
produce the desired impression. The semitone, howe- 
ver, is necessary to express grief, and vexation. It is 
the natural language of lamentation, sorrow, complaint, 
disappointment, and pity, in their highest degrees. It 
is appropriate to the penitential parts of supplication ; but 
only to these — not to prayer in the form of requests, etc. 
The semitone is too much in use, in the pulpit, where it 
is often combined with a draw T l, and a mixture of song ; 
winch, certainly, together, constitute a mode of utte- 
rance, which can only please those who have their own 
peculiar associations, to reconcile them to such offence 
against the laws of agreeable speech. Many persons 
perform all their religious services, as if under the con- 
stant pressure of severe bodily pain. 

The simple melody of speech, is appropriate to all those 
portions of discourse, where emotion, interrogation, and 
emphasis, do not intervene, and should never be broken, 
except for the purpose of expressing these. 

The rising slides of the voice, differ in intensity, from 
the simple suspension of the voice at a comma, up to the 
sneering octave, in scornful interrogation. The slides, 
and radical changes, appropriate to interrogation, empha- 
sis, and emotion, are those of a third, a fifth, and an octave. 
The more intense die slide, the more earnest is the question, 
and the greater the degree of emotion expressed by it. 
Persons are less likely to fail in the right expression of 
interrogation, than in many other points of speech. The 



180 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

expression of interrogative sentences, is effected by con- 
crete and discrete rises of a third, a fifth, and an octave. . 

Words of long quantity, in such sentences, become in- 
terrogative by a concrete rise, and words that do not 
admit of extended quantity, acquire the interrogative 
intonation, by running along the line of the vanishing 
points of the long concretes, with the simple rise of a 
second. In instances of very intense and earnest ques- 
tioning, the short syllables not only begin an octave 
higher than the long concretes, as just stated, but rise 
concretely, a third, a fifth, or an octave, in addition. 
Such combination of radical and concrete rise, is con- 
fined, however, to words and sentences of earnest and 
passionate interrogation. The greater the number of 
words are on which the interrogative intervals fall, the 
more intensely earnest the sentence becomes. Vanish- 
ing stress, renders interrogation more passionate and em- 
phatic. 

We deem this sufficient on the subject, as the object 
of this work is exclusively practical. Persons who wish 
to see the principles of interrogatory sentences more ful- 
ly discussed, will do well to consult Dr. Rush's " Philo- 
sophy of the voice," on that subject. Indeed, on that 
and all others, connected with the art of speech, the 
most valuable information will be derived from its peru- 
sal : nor is it in the slightest degree intended, by the 
author of this grammar, to offer it as a substitute for that 
profound, original, and ingenious treatise. 

The rising radical movements of the voice, are em- 
ployed in various degrees of intensity, to mark emphasis, 
condition, and admiration, and, (as has been already ob- 
served) interrogation. 



DRIFT. 181 

The downward movements of the voice, in the vari- 
ous degrees of intensity marked by the descent of a third, 
a fifth, and an octave, express strong exclusive empha- 
sis, surprise, astonishment, wonder, command, reprehen- 
sion, denunciation, positiveness of conviction and deter- 
mination, indignation, resolve, confidence, satisfaction, 
defiance, etc. 

We refer to examples under emphasis. 

Protracted quantity. 

Long drawn time, as has been already said, naturally 
assumes the form of the wave of the second. It is ap- 
propriate to subjects of a solemn and grand character, 
and has been fully treated under its appropriate head. 

Force. 

The use of force, under its various forms, has been 
already amply specified. So have that of the tremor of 
the voice, aspiration, and the guttural emphasis. 



DRIFT OF VOICE. 

Sometimes the use of the same elements of the 
voice prevails throughout the whole, or certain por- 
tions of a discourse, giving a peculiar character or colo- 
ring to expression, independent of emphasis, or solitary 
words. Dr. Rush is the first person who has drawn at- 
tention to this department of elocution. See sect. 45, 
of his Philosophy of the Human Voice. 

The diatonic drift, is the most common, and of 
most extensive application. It consists, principally, of a 
series of rising tones, with an occasional fall of a second. 
We have already stated under what circumstances it is 
applicable. It may be united with more or less of stress 

16 



132 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

and quantity, and is subject to all possible varieties of 
quality of voice. All passionless subjects take on this 
drift, with occasional emphasis to mark the sense. 

Drift of the wave of the second. 

This drift is united necessarily, with slow time, can 
only be maintained on long quantities, and is limited to 
dignified, solemn, deliberate subjects. 

Drift of the semitone. 

This, when united with long quantity, makes a drift 
of the wave of the semitone. It is adapted to all highly 
penitential, tender, and plaintive subjects. 

CONSPICUOUS EXAMPLE. 

Yet, O / Lord God, most Ao-ly. O / Lord, most 
mighty. O / ho~\y and most merciful Sav-ior, deliver 
us not into the bitter pains of e-tfer-nal death. 

The whole is semitonic ; the words in italics take the 
wave. 

Drift of the downward third, and fifth. 

This is often united with vanishing, with compound, 
with median, and sometimes with radical stress. This 
union of elements will express positiveness, conviction, 
indignation, surprise, denunciation, reprehension, re- 
proach, authority, command. 

EXAMPLES. 

Positiveness. 

He is a prophet. John, ix. 5. 

I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, 
which should come into the world. 



DRIFT. 183 

In these two examples, some of the emphatic words 
have an elevation of note, but the downward concrete is 
conspicuous, and is combined with stress. 

Denunciation. 

Woe unto thee, Cho-ra-zin; Woe unto thee Beth- 
sai-da. 

" For the na-tion and Kng'-dom that will not serve 
thee, shall perish ; yea, those nations shall be ut-terly 
wasted. 

Authority — command. 

He that he-liev-eth in me, though he were dead, yet 
shall he live, and whoso-ev-er liveth and believeth in 
me, shall nev-er die. 

Uz-z\e\, half these draw off, and coast the south 
With strict- est watch ; these oth-er wheel the north ; 
Our circuit meets full west. 

There is downward concrete heard in the above in- 
stances, and with marked stress. So in the following. 
Such where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring. 
A-bide in me, and J in you. 

Surprise, with conviction. 

And Thomas answered and said unto him, my Lord 
and my God. 

Reprehension. 
Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed 
To thy transgression, and dis-turbed the charge 
Of oth-ers, who approve not to transgress 
By thy ex-am-ple, but have power and right 
To ques-tion thy bold entrance on this place ; 
Qm-ployed, it seems, to violate sleep, and those 
Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss. 



184 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

The prevalent, and most impressive elements, in the 
above cited example, are the downward concrete, with 
vanishing stress. 

The downward concrete, with frequent elevation of 
note, strong radical stress, and a quick movement, pre- 
vail in the following. 

Then, when I am thy captive, talk of chains, 
Proud limitary cherub !•* but ere then, 
Far heavier load thyself expect to feel, 
From my prevailing arm, though heaven's king 
Ride on thy wings. 

Drift of the upward third, fifth, and octave. 

Am I a dog, that thou contest against me with staves ? 

Must I budge 6 } Must J crouch under your tes-Xj 
hum-or? 

Am I my broth-er's keep-ex} 

Drift of quantity, and median stress. 

These go together, and are applicable to the dignified, 
and the solemn. 

Hail, holy light, offspring of heaven, first born ; 

Or of the e-ter-nal, co-eternal beam, 

May I express thee uriblamed? Since God is light, 

And never, but in unapproached light, 

Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee, 

Bright effluence of bright essence, in-create. 

" We praise thee, O God. We acknowledge thee to 

be the Lord. 

" To thee all angels cry aloud ; the Heavens, and all 

the powers therein. 

" To thee cherubim and seraphim continually do cry, 

« jffo-ly, flo-ly, Ho-\y Lord God of Sabaoth." 

" / Lord save thy people and bless thine heritage." 



DRIFT. 185 

The wave of the second, with median stress and a fine 
terminating vanish with the drift of the monotone, will 
give to the above cited examples the utmost degree of 
solemnity and supplicating earnestness. These constit- 
uents are the true elements of the grand, the solemn, the 
dignified and the reverential ; which are not expressed 
by mouthing and inflating syllables, but by long quantity, 
median swell, and the fine vanishing movement. The 
words subject to our remarks are italicised. 

Drift of radical stress. 

All lively subjects take this drift ; the animating and 
the angry passions under their varied modifications are 
marked by it ; a quick time goes with it. 

EXAMPLE. 

And he (amid his frolic play,) 

As if he would the charming air repay, 

Shook thous-tmd od-ors from his dewy wings. 

The tremor may play upon most of the syllables of 
the last line. 

The drift of the tremor, seldom lasts beyond a few 
words. Sometimes, however, united with the semitone, it 
extends through sentences. 

The drift of the monotone, prevails in solemn and 
plaintive subjects. 

The drift of the alternate phrase is appropriate to ani- 
mation of description and argument ; but should not be 
applied to such subjects as are enumerated under the 
heads of quantity and median stress. 

16* 



RECITATION SIXTEENTH. 



FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 

Defects of the voice. 

Few voices are fully competent to all that is required 
of a public speaker in addressing large audiences. When 
the space to be filled is extensive, where the difficulty is 
increased by the structure of buildings ill adapted to public 
speaking, powerful and well exercised voices will not be 
more than sufficient to render a speaker audible and im- 
pressive. 

The modes of improving the voice have been fully de- 
tailed. It remains to specify the most common defects 
of quality. The voice is sometimes feeble, thin, harsh, 
nasal, mincing, too shrill, or from some unknown cause is 
ill adapted to a clear and distinct utterance of the ele- 
ments. In all such cases, time and labor will be requi- 
red for its improvement. A voice may be created. 
None of our powers are more improveable than those of 
the voice. To be agreeable it should be full, sonorous, 
smooth and strong. 

Defects of the slide in the utterance of syllables. 

The defect is sometimes in the opening of syllables 
from the want of a well marked radical stress. This 
may be always removed by exercising the voice perseve- 
ringly in exploding the elements, and in forcible abrupt 
declamation. Oftener, however, it consists in the want 



FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 187 

of the lessening volume, during the progress of the syl- 
labic movement and of the terminating vanish. Where 
the vanishing properly of the slide is not marked, there is 
generally a deficient quantity ; and (the force being 
equal through the whole syllable) speech sounds rough 
and harsh. Its smoothness depends to a considerable 
degree on the lessening volume and vanish. These are 
distinctly marked in the discourse of all cultivated 
speakers. 

Want of quantity. 

Some persons cannot lengthen their syllables and con- 
sequently cannot be deliberate. Their utterance is there- 
fore always deficient in serious dignity and impressiveness. 
Such persons cannot use the emphasis of time, and ge- 
nerally employ instead of it, the abrupt forms of stress 
upon emphatic words. Their discourse, therefore wants 
smoothness and is monotonous from the frequent recur- 
rence of short percussive impulses. 

Some give quantity improperly to their consonant 
sounds, and in that way, elongate syllables which will not 
bear extension without a change of their sanctioned pro- 
nunciation. Others give a marked quantity to words 
without assignable cause. 

Long quantity, it should be recollected makes a sylla- 
ble impressive, as compared with others, and should not 
therefore, be applied without a manifest reason. Some 
in elongating their words, drawl them, or degenerate 
into song. This defect is popularly expressed by calling 
it a " disagreeable tone." It is most prevalent in the 
pulpit. 



188 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Defects of pitch. 

Some persons always read with too low a pitch. This 
defect is often united with great feebleness, and often 
with an unvaried monotony. Persons who read in this 
manner, cannot conveniently increase their force, without 
raising the pitch of their voice. " Raise your voice," 
generally means, be more forcible. It is a direction of- 
ten given by the teacher, when the reader is becoming 
inaudible. "Raise the pitch, and increase the force 
of your voice," would be a more proper one. The fault 
now described, is very prevalent in the reading classes 
of ladies' schools. 

Some public speakers, as we have before observed, 
adopt too high a pitch. I know a speaker, who, soon 
after his commencement, runs up to the highest note of 
his voice, and maintains this high pitch, throughout his 
discourse, producing of course a constant monotony. He 
is withall, very loud, and never makes a cadence. 

Another, whom I have occasionally heard, commen- 
ces his sentences with a high and loud note, and, (run- 
ning down through the octave,) concludes them with a 
low and feeble one, so as to be scarcely audible. This 
latter trick of the voice, catches attention at first, but it 
never pleases the ear long. It is sometimes the result of 
habit, but oftener marks the charlatan in oratory. 

Defects as to transition. 

Many persons give no notice to the ear, of the changes 
of the subject, by change of tone. Transition has been 
fully treated in a former part of this grammar. 

The improper use of the semitone. 

The circumstances which ought to regulate the use of 



FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 189 

this element, have been fully set forth. It is a disagree- 
able and unmanly whine, except when called for by the 
strong expression of mournful feeling. When employed 
to depict the sorrows of the heart in the penitential parts 
of prayer, or to express, in appeals from the pulpit, the 
language of genuine pity for perishing man, it is, some- 
times, especially when happily united with the tremor, of 
overwhelming effect. At others, it is the result of mere 
depression of the animal spirits ; a depression, we admit, 
often felt by those who minister at the altar of God, from 
causes entitled to the highest respect : the semitone, 
however, is misplaced, except w T hen employed to en- 
hance the expression of sorrowful language; and when 
otherwise introduced, it cannot fail to communicate some 
of the painful feeling of the speaker, to the sensitive part 
of his audience. 

Faults in the simple melody. 

The most common is monotony, arising from an un- 
varied radical pitch. The next in frequency, is the jin- 
gle, arising from the close recurrence of the same com- 
binations of melody. This has been treated of, page 
84. The formal returns are sometimes marked by a 
conspicuous rise of the voice, and sometimes by an un- 
equal wave. This species of melody is common in the 
British Parliament, and among the practised speakers of 
England generally. 

Want of cadence. 

Some speakers never bring their voices to a full close ; 
not even at the end of a discourse. The repose of the 
cadence at the termination of any conspicuous train of 
sentiment, is in the highest degree, grateful to the ear, 



190 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

I know of no effect of the voice which is more so. The 
various forms shown in the diagrams, will furnish ample 
means for marking the termination of sense and senti- 
ments, by appropriate closes. Many persons end their 
sentences so feebly, as to be scarcely heard. Care 
should be taken, (and care in this respect is much requi- 
red,) that , in lowering the voice in pitch, to form the ca- 
dence, its force is kept up sufficiently, to render the close 
of the sentence, perfectly audible. The fault in question, 
as respects the sense of a sentence, is a very serious one, 
and the means of prevention are obvious. Let care be 
taken so to regulate the general pitch, as not to fall too 
low in effecting the closes, and then there will be no dif- 
ficulty in making them sufficiently loud and forcible. 

Improper use of intense slides, and the wider intervals 
of radical pitch. 

Some persons have a recurrent third, or fifth, in their 
delivery. These are most apt to return at emphatic 
words and pauses, are often united with some increase 
of force, and are heard so often as to constitute a mono- 
tony. They are very apt to occur at the end of the lines 
in rhyme. Frequently, the rise in question, is an une- 
qual wave, falling a tone, and rising a third, or fifth. 
This latter is, like the simple rise, a very marked note, 
deviating so much from the rest of the melody, as scarce- 
ly to be mistaken. There is a sort of submissive apolo- 
gy, or sentiment of deference and courtesy, intimated by 
the circumflex we have described, which subtracts from 
the manly and authoritative character of speech : besides 
that, as a mere habit of the voice, it has no assignable 
meaning. It therefore constitutes a marked deformity 



FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 191 

of utterance ; for all those elements of speech, which, 
when properly used, add importance to words, are, when 
improperly introduced, absolute blemishes. 

The simple melody, is alone appropriate, unless inter- 
rogation, emphasis, or emotion, authorise a departure 
from it. Persons prone to the circumflex, can never 
read Milton, or Shakspeare, well. I have known this 
single fault, (which the light of analysis easily detects, 
and a little labor disposes of,) mar an actor's fortunes. A 
fine voice has not been sufficient to redeem him. 

If men will learn the truth in such cases, it can easily 
be told. In all fine arts, consequently in that of acting, 
A very few favorites of nature, are prompted to excel- 
lence by strong and irreversible instinct : but there are 
many who can be taught to do a thing in the best man- 
ner, who would never find it out for themselves. These 
require the aids of science, and can never reach excel- 
lence without them. Often, however, from a want of 
philosophical comprehension, and from overweening self- 
conceit, these personages are the least teachable. Hu- 
mility is the child of wisdom ; and it is the modest, and 
the humble, only, w T ho repair, with unfeigned reverence, to 
the fountains of philosophy, and in her " golden urns 
draw light."* 

I conclude my remarks on the employment of this 
circumflex note in speech, by observing, that it is incom- 
patible with a sustained impression of dignity. 



Fontes philosophise e quibus ilia manabant. 

Cicero Tuse Quest. 



192 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Defects as respects the downward slide and downward 
radical p' ch. 

Few persons have a command over the more intense 
downward slides. They express exclusive emphasis, sur- 
prise and positiveness, as has been observed, and on that ac- 
count they are very important. They maybe placed at our 
command by elementary exercise. The use of the in- 
tenser forms of the downward slide are very impressive ; 
but require from their difficulty particular cultivation. 
The voice is prone to rise, though it can by no means be 
always said of it, that in its " proper motion it ascends." 
The downward radical pitch should be diligently practi- 
ced, as well as the slides, upon the elements, in falls of a 
third, fifth, and octave. 

Defects in the management of emphasis. 

We have nothing to remark in addition to what has 
been already said on the misapplication of emphasis, from 
a misapprehension of sense. The remedy for this is 
more close and careful analysis. Some persons produce 
monotony by always emphasising their words in one way. 
The most common is that of the rise of a third, or of a 
fifth, or of an unequal wave. The frequent use of 
quantity, of mere percussion without elevation of pitch, 
changes of the quality of the voice, and the antagonist 
application of the rising and falling slide, and of alternate 
rises and falls in radical pitch, upon recurrent words, will 
give all necessary variety both for sense and beauty of 
utterance. 

Monotony at the pausal sections. 
This defect as respects the sense and the ear has been 
fully treated. 



FAULTS OF DELIVERY. 193 

Defects of enunciation. 

This subject has been also amply discussed. 

Violation of measure. 

Measure as a fundamental point in delivery occupies 
a large space in this grammar. 

Defects as to force. 

This arises principally, from the want of radical 
stress. An excess of force constitutes ranting. The 
improper use of the vanishing stress, is not a very 
unfrequent fault in delivery. The circumstances which 
ought to limit its use, have been fully explained else- 
where. The pronunciation of the Irish, will ex- 
hibit the fault of an unnecessary vanishing stress, in 
the highest degree. The general current of discourse 
is sometimes too feebly marked by the combined and an- 
tagonist effects of force and quantity. 

Mouthing. 

This is a very common fault among young persons, 
and deserves their serious attention and efforts, to cor- 
rect it. Its causes have been already explained, page 
104. 



17 



RECITATION EIGHTEENTH, 



PREVALENT CIRCUMSTANCES IN ELEGANT 
SPEECH. 

Elegant speech is marked by a proper distribution 
of stress and time. It employs exclusively, the simple 
melody for plain thought, grafting upon it other upward 
and downward movements, for purposes of interrogation, 
emphasis, and emotion. The slides are distinguished by 
a clear and full opening, and those susceptible of quan- 
tity, by a distinct vanish, at their termination. In digni- 
fied subjects, the utterance assumes, and maintains, upon 
words of long quantity, the equal wave of the second, 
joining with it median stress, for purposes of emphasis. 
In ordinary discourse, the temporal and percussive em- 
phasis, are blended in due variety, with the alternation 
of the higher rising and falling movements. The semi- 
tone is restricted to the expression of the plaintive feel- 
ings, and tremor is employed on proper occasions, to 
mark grief and exultation. The intermixture of high 
intervals in the current melody is avoided, unless for a 
reason assignable upon an analysis of the sense. 



CIRCUMSTANCES TO BE BORNE IN MIND, 
IN CRITICISING A PUBLIC SPEAKER. 

1 . Is his voice full, strong, and agreeable ? 



PUBLIC SPEAKING. 1 9 T 

2. Is his enunciation exact and audible, without af- 
fected preciseness ; and are his syllables pronounced 
according to sound usage ? 

3. Is his simple melody free from monotony ? 

4. Is he without what is usually called a tone, consisting 
(according to a more technical phraseology,) in a recur- 
rent melody ? 

5. Is there the monotony of a high note, or circum- 
flex, in his speaking upon emphatic words, or in the ge- 
neral current of his discourse ? 

6. Are his emphases so varied by time, percussion, 
and a properly alternated rise and fall in pitch, as to 
prevent monotony from a perceptible recurrence of the 
same kinds ? 

7. Do his emphases of pitch, consist of a direct rise 
and fall, and not of the puling unequal circumflex ? 

8. Does he employ radical stress with effect? 

9. Is his speech marked by an agreeable use of quan- 
tity free from drawl, or any mixture of song ? 

10. Are his consonant elements free from improper 
quantity ? 

1 1 . Has he full command over the downward slides 
of the voice, and over the downward radical pitch, for 
expressing the positive emotions, and those of surprise, 
and for marking exclusive emphasis ? 

12. Does he avoid the monotony, of the vanishing 
stress ? 

13. Does he employ the cadence in proper places ? 

14. Does he mark his parentheses, paragraphs, and 
changes of subjects by transitions of pitch, time, force, 
and quality of voice ? 



196 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

15. Are the vocal powers so employed, as to deline- 
ate the sense in a vivid manner ? 

16. Is the semitone at his command, for purposes of 
pathos ? 

17. Can he employ the tremor with effect, to heighten 
the language of sorrow and exultation ? 

The beauties of delivery, above enumerated, are all 
of easy attainment, if sought for upon a well devised and 
persevering plan of elementary instruction. 



DIRECTIONS TO THE EXERCISES. 



Every bar, as in music, is to occupy the same time. 
This time is to be consumed in the pronunciation of the 
syllables contained in the bars, or the syllables and pau- 
ses, or the pauses alone, where the whole bar is devoted 
to rest. The mark a shows that a syllable is heavy or 
accented ; .*. that it is light or unaccented. The mark 
7 indicates that a rest, or pause, is to be made. A long 
syllable can be extended through the whole time of a 
bar, and may be made heavy or accented in its opening, 
and light at its termination ; a short one cannot fill a bar. 
When the mark 7 is omitted after a short heavy syllable, 
standing alone in a bar, a pause is to be made as if it 
w T ere present. 

By the use of the exercises, it will soon be perceived 
that most persons are deficient in rythm. By an exact 
observation of it, two consequences will follow ; reading 
will cease to be laborious, and the sense will be rendered 
perfectly clear, as far as it is dependent on the capital 
point of the distribution of time, or measure. 

Lasdy, the progress of the voice is to be distinct 
from the accented to the unaccented syllable, or from 
heavy to light, and not from light to heavy. 



17* 



EXERCISES, 



ODE, ON THE DEATH OF THOMSON. 

Collins. 

The scene of the following stanzas, is supposed to be on 
the Thames, near Richmond. 



7]n 


yonder 


grave 


7 a 


Druid 


lies, 


7 






A .*. 


A .'. 


A .". 


A .\ 


A .*. 


A .% 




7 Where 


slowly 


winds t 


ie I stealing 


wave ! 7 7 7 


A /. 


A .'. 


A ,\ A .-. 


A .*. 


A/. 


7 The 


year's 1 best 1 sweets shall < 


luteous 


rise, 7 


A .'. 


A .-. j A.*, j A 


A .'. .*. 


A .*. 


7 To 


deck 


7 its 


Poet's 


sylvan 


grave ! 


77 


77 


A .*. 


A .". 


A /. 


A .*. 


A .*. 


A .' 


. A.'. 


A/. 


7 In 


yon 


deep 7 


bed of 


whispering 


reeds 7 




A .-. 


AV 


A .\ 


A .*. 


A .'. .*. 


A .*. 




7 1 


His 


airy 


harp 


7sh£ 


l11 now be 


laid, 7 1 


A /. 


A/. 


A .* 


A .-. 


A .\ 


A .\ j 


7 That J he 7 


7 whose he 


art in i 


sorrow 


bleeds, 7 


A .-. J A .*. 


A .'. L 


\ 


A .*. 


A 


• 7 May 


love through ] 


ife 7 the 


soothing j 


A .'. 


A .*. L 


i .*. A .*. 


A .'. j 


shade. 


77 


77 




A ,\ 


A .*. 


A.*. 




7 The 


maids and ] 


youths 1 7 shall 


linger 


here, 7 


A .*. 


A 


A /.A /. 


A .'. 


A .*. 


And while its 1 sounds at 


distanc 


e swel 


,7 




A .'. .\ J A 


A .% 


A /. 




7 Shall j sadly | seen 


a 7 in 


i pity's 


ear 7 1 


A . 


'• 


1 L 


\ :. 


1 A ■ 


'. | A /. 


A .'. 


A 


i • • 







EXERCISES. 



199 



7 To 

A 



7Re- 

A .'. 

7\ 

A 





hear 


" 


1 the 




A .*. 


A .*. 


knell. 


77 


77 


A 


.*. 


A 




A.*. 



woodland 

A .*. 



pilgrim's 

A ,\ 



membrance 


oft 7 


7 shall haunt the 


shore, 7 


A 


A /. 


A /. 


A 


A .*. 


en 


Thames in 


summer 


wreaths is 


. 


A 


•*• 


A 


•'. 


A 


.*• 





drest; 


7 7 


A .'. 


A .*. 


7 And 


oft 7 


| 7 sus 


A /. 


A .'. 


|A ,. 



7 To I bid his 

A .*. A .\ 



7 And 



oft as 



gentle 

A .*. 
ease and 



pend the 

A 
spirit 

A .". 



dashing 

A .*. 
7 7 



oar, 7 

A .\ 



A .-. 



rest. 

A.'. 



| 77 
A/. 



7 7 
A.*. 



A .*. 
7 or 

A .*. 

view 

A .*. 



A .\ A .*. A 

7 To breezy lawn, 

A /. A .'. A .*. 

7 The friend shall I 
A /. A .*. I 

spire, 7 I 
A .*. J 
7 And I mid the I varied 

A .". J A /. A /. 

7 7 7 7 
A.' 



health | 7 re- 

A .'. 
forest 

A .*. 



yon 

A .'. 



tire 7 

A .'. 

deep, 7 I 

A .*. ) 

whitening 



landscape 

A 



7 7 

A.*. 



weep. 

A .*. 



7 But 

A .'. 

Ah! 

A .'. 

7 Or 

A .'. 



thou, | 7 who 

A .\ | A .*. 



what will 

A .\ 
tears, 

A .*. 



every 

A .*. .*. 



7 which 
A .-. 



own'st that 
A 
dirge a- 

A .'. 
love and 

A .*. 



earthly 

A .*. 
vail? 

A /. 

pity 

A ,\ 



bed, 7 

A .'. 
7 7 
A>. 

shed, 7 

A .\ 



200 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



That 

sail ! 

A .*. 



mourn 

A .*. 
7 7 
A /. 



7 be- 

A ,\ 



neath the 

A 



gliding, 

A .*. 



77 
A .*. 



Yet 


lives there 


one, 




7 whose 


heedless 


eye 7 




A .*. 


A .*. 


A .*. 


A .*. 


A .'. 


A /. 




7 Shall 


scorn thy 


pal 


e 


shrine j glimmering j near ? 7| 


A .*. 


A 


A .*. 


A .'. ' : A .'. .\ | A .\| 


7 W 

A ." 


ith 


him, 

A .". 


sweet 

A 




7 


Bard 

A .*. 




7 may 

A .*. 


1 fancy 

A .*. 


I 



die 7 

A .*. 
And 



year. 

A .*. 



I 7 7 

I A.\ 

A .". 
77 
A .*, 



7 

A 

77 
A .", 



de- 



sert 

A 



the 



blooming 

A 



7 But 


thou 


7 7 


lorn 


A .*. 


A .'. ! A .*. 


A .*. 


tide 7 




A .*. 




No 1 sedge-crown'd 


sist( 


A.*. ! 


A 


,-. 




A 



stream, 

A .*. 



7 whose 

A .*. 



sullen 
a .:. 



Oh 

A.*. 



waft me j 7 from the 

A .*. ! A .". .'. 



iters 


now ; 7 at- 


tend 


;7 


.-. 


A .*. j A .*. 


A .*. 


green 


hill's 


side, 7 




A . 


\ 


A .-. 


L 


X .*. 





7 Whose 

A 

7 And 

A .'. 

Dun 

A 



Yet 

A/. 



cold | turf 
A .".j A .'. 



hides the 

A 



buried 

A .*. 



friend ! I 7 7 

A .*. |A .'. 



77 
A.*. 



see, 7 


7 the 


fairy 


A .'. 


A /. 


A .\ 


- 


night 


7 has 




A .*. 


A .*. 


view! 


7 7 


77 




A 




A.'. 


L 


i .*. 





vallies 

A .\ 

j veil'd 

A 



fade, 7 

A /. 

the 



solemn 

A /. 



once a- 


gain 7 


dear 


parted 


A .'. 


A /. 


A .\ 


A /. 



shade, 7 

A 



EXERCISES. 



201 



Meek 


nature's child| 


7a-| 


gain a- 




dieu ! 


77 


17 7 


A .". 


A .'. 


A .\jA .*. i A .*. 


A .*. 


A .\JA .\ 


7 The 1 genial meads, 1 7 as- 1 signed to 


bless 7 




A ■ .-. J A ,. /. 


A /. 1 A .". J A 


A /. 




7 Thy 


life 7 j 7 shall 


mourn thy 


early doom ! 7 I 


A .'. 


A .\ J A .\ 


A 


A . 


A /. 1 


7 There 


hinds 


7 and j shepherd 


girls shall \ dress 7 ! 


A .'. 


A ,\ 


A .'. ! A /. 


A /. 1 A .'. ! 


7 With 'simple hands 


7 thy' rural 1 tomb. 7 | 7 717 7 


A .-. 1a .-. 1 A /. 


A .'. ! A .*. I A .-J A.;,|A /. 


Long, 1 


ong thy j stone j 7 and 


pointed 


clay 7 | 


A .'. 


A .-. 1 A .*. 1 A .-. 


A .*. 


A .*. 1 


7 Sha 


11 melt the 1 musing 


Briton's ! eyes. 1 7 7'| 


A .'. 


A \ ! A .*. 


A .*. 1 A .'. 1 A.'. 1 


Oil ! I vales, an< 


1 wild I woods, 1 7 shall he J say, 7 f 


A .'. J A .-. 


A .'. 1 A .-. 1 A .". .*. 1 A /. | 


7 In 


ponder 


grave 1 7 your 


Druid | lies! 7 7 


7 7 


A /. 


A .'. 


A .*. ! A .*. 


A .*. 1 A .'. 1 A .*. 


A .'. 


CATHARINA, 


ADDRESSED TO MISS STAPLETON. 


Cowper. 


7 She 


came 7 


7 she i 


s gone 7 1 7 we have , met 7 


A .*. 


A .". 


A .*. . 


A .\|A .*. >. A /. 


7 And 


meet perhaps 


never a 1 gain ; 7 




A .". 


A .*. .-. 


A .*. .'. 1 A 




7 The 


sun of 


that 7 


moment 


7 is 


set, 7 




A .-. 


A .*. 


A /. 


A ,\ 


A .". 


A ... 




7 And 


seems to have 


risen in 


vain. 7 




A .% 


A 


\ 


A .*. 


.*. 


A 













202 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



7 7 Catha- rina 7 has i fled like a dream, 

A .*. A .*. A .*. A .*. | A .'. .". A .*. 

( So vanishes pleasure 7 a- 1 las) 7 7 7 

A.*. A .*. .*. A ,\ A .'. | A .'. A /. 

But has I left 7 7a re-j gret 7 I 7 and es 

A /.A .*. A .'. .'. I A .\|A .\ .*. 



teem, 

A .". 



7 That 
A :\ 

7 The 

A .'. 

Catha- 

A .'. 

7 Our 

A .*. 



will not so I suddenly 

A .*. ,\ A .'. .'. 



pass. 

A 



last 

A.*. 

rina 

A/. 



evening I ramble 

A .\ A >. 



7 Ma- 

A ,\ 



na 

A/. 



7 and 

A .*. 



A 



7 we | made, 7 

A .*. 

1,7 

A .*, 



progress was 

A .*. 



often de-j lay'd J 

A .*. /. ! A .'. I 



7 By the Nightingale warbling 



A .\ 

7 We 
A .*. 
7 And 

A /. 

Less 7 

A /. 
Who so 

A 



nigh. 7 I' 

A /. 



A .*. .'. A 

paus'd under ] many a I tree, 7 

A .'. .'. A .\ /. I A .*. 
much was I she charm'd I 7 with a 

A .-. j A /. A /. |A /. .'. 

sweet to Ma- 

A .*. 
I lately | 7 had 



tone 1 



ria and ; me 7 








A .'. j A .*. 




i | witness'd 


7 her j own. 


77 


77 


1 A .*. 


A . 


A 


A .'. 


A .'. 



My numbers j that day j 7 she had 



A 
only her 



A.'. 

7 And 

A .'. 

7 As 

A /. 

7 Could in- 

A 

7 7 | 7 The 

A /.!a /. 



A.*. 



A .-. !a 



sung 7 ! 

/ ■ I 



gave them a ' grace so Ji- I vine, 7 



musical tongue 

A .\ .*. A .*. 

fuse into j numbers of | mine. 7 

A .*. .'. A .*. /. ! A .*. 



longer I | heard 7 

A /. .*.) A .'. 



7 1 es- 

A .*. .". 



teem'd 7 







EXERCISES. 


7 The 


work of my 


fancy the | more, 7 


A .'. 


A .*. /. 


A .*. /. 1 A 



203 



7 And I ev'n to my- I self never I seem'd 7 j 



A 



A 



I A 



7 So j tuneful a j Poet be- j fore. 17 7,77: 

A A I A .'. .*. ! A .*. .*. * A.'. JA .\|a .-.! 



Though the pleasures of I London ex- 

A .*. A .*. .*. i A .'. .*. 



ceed 7 

A .'. 



7 In | number j 7 the 

A .'. | A .". JA .". 



days of the I year 7 I 7 7 



A 



«A /. 



Catha- j rina (did j nothing im- pede) 7 



A .*. i A/. .\ i A .*. 

7 Would | feel herself 

7 For the | close woven j arches of 

A .*. .'. I A .'. .*. ! A .*. .*. 



happier jhere. 7 
A /. r. I A 

limes 7 I 



7 On the 

A .*. .*. 

7 Are 



banks 

A .*. 

sweeter 

A .-. 



7 of our 

A .*. .-. 
7 to | her 7 

A .*. I A / 



river, | 7 I 

A /. |A .". 



know. 7 

A 



many j times 7 



A .*. 



7 Than j aught that the j city can i show, j 7 7 j 7 7 



A 



A.*. 



A 



A .*.A ;\ 



So it ! is 7 
A .*. I A ,\ 
7 With a 



7 when the j mind I 7 is en- j dued 7 

A .*. .'. ; A .*. 'A /. .*. I A /J 
well judging 

A .'. /. 



taste from a- j bove, 7 



A 



Then 7 



(whether em- bellish'd or I rude,) 7 I 



A 



7 Tis I Nature a- 
7 The a- 



lone 7 j 7 that we 



A .\| 
love. 7 

A .*. 



chievements of 

A .*. .*. 

7 May I even our 



art may a- j muse, 7 



A 



A .\ 



A .*. .*. i A 

wonder ex- | cite, 7 
A .\ .*. 



204 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



groves, 7 


hills and 


vallies, 


7dif- 


fuse 7 


A 


A /. 


A .\ 


A .\ 


A /. 


lasting, j 7 a 


sacred 


7de- 


lig] 


it. 7 


7 7 


7 7 


A .*. l A .-. 


A .*. 


A ,\ 


£ 


k .*. 


A 


.'• 


A .\ 



7 But 

A .". 

7 A 

A /. 

Since then 

A 

Catha- 

A /. 
May it 

A .\ 

7 The 

A .\ 

7 To in- 1 habit a 

A .*. .*. j A .'. .'. 
7 From the 

A .\ 



7 in the 

A .*. .\ 
rma a 

A .*. .* 

still be her 

A .*. .\ 

scene of her 

A 



rural re 

A /. .-. 

lone can re- 

A .% .*. 



cess 7 

A .\ 
joice ; 7 

A 



lot to pos- 


sess 7 




A .*. .*. 


A /. 




31* 


sensible 


choice ! 7 




A .*. .*. 


A 


mansion re- 


1 mote 7 | 


£ 


k .*. 


A .\ 


i 



clatter of I street pacing J steeds, 



7 And by | Philomel's j annual I note 7 

A .*. .'. j A .*. .*. j A .*..*. j A .*. 

7 To I measure the I life that she 



7 With her 


book, 7 


A .*. 


A ." 


lyre, 7 1 


A .-. 1 


7 To j wing all her 


A .-. 1 A .*. .*. 


7 And with 1 scenes 


A /. /. 1 


A .*. 



leads. 7 




A .'. ! 


voice 7 


7 and her 


A .*. 


A .*. .'. 



moments at I home ; 7 

A .\ .*. j A 

7that | new I rapture in- | spire,7 I 
, A /. j A .'. j A .% /. | A .*. j 
7 As | oft as it | suits her to | roam ; 7 | 

A .'. | A .*. .". | A .\ .% | A .*. | 

She will I have 7 I just the I life 7 | 7 she pre- | fers, 7 
A .\ A /. I A /. A 



A /, 



7 With I little 1 7 to I hope 
A /. A /. A .\ A /. 



I 

7 or to | fear, 7 | 
A.-..". | A ,-.| 



•. 



EXERCISES. 



205 



7 And 


1 


ours would be 1 


pleasant as 


| hers, 7 




A .*. 


A .*. .\ f A /. .*. | A .'. 




Might we 


view her eri- 


joying it 


here.7 | 7 7 | 7 7 I 


A 


A /. /. 


A .'. .*. 


A .-. | A .'. j A.\ ! 


ADAM AND EVE's MORNING HYMN. 


Milton. 


These are thy 


glorious 


works ! 


7 7 Parent of 


A /. .*. 


A .*. .*. 


A .*. 


A .\ A .\ .*. 


Good! 




A .". 




7 7 A1-'mighty!|7 7 


thine this [uni- versal frame, | 


A .".|A.\| A .'. |A .* 


A /. ;A/.i A .-. 


A /. 1 


Thus 


wond'rous 


j fair : 7 1 7thy-jself 7 


how 


wonderous 


A .*. 


A 


A .*. A .*. 1 A .:. 


A .'. 


A 


then, 7 




A .*. 




Un-j speakable ! 


7 who! sitt'st 


7 a- 


bove 7 


these 


A.\| A .". .'. 


A .*. 1 A /. 


A.*. 


A .'. 


A /. 


heavens, 




A .*. 




7 To 1 usin- \ 


visible, 


7 or 


dimly 


seen 


7. 


A .*. 1 A .% i 


^ .*. /. 


A .*. 


A .*. 


A . 


*. 


7 In 1 these thy 


lowest 


works ; 7 1 7 7 


Yen 


' these de- 


A /. 1 A 


A .*. 


■ • A .\ |a .* 


. A . 


A .'. 


clare 7 




A .\ 




7 Thy 


goodness beyond 


thought 1 7 and 


power di-j 


A .*. 


A .'. .*. .*. 


A .'. J A /. 


A /. 1 


vine. | 7 7 


7 7 








A 


/. L 


i .*. 


A 

















18 



206 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



Speak 7 ye 7 

A ,\ A / 


7 who 

. A /. 


best can 

A 


1 tell, 7 

A / 


1 7 J* 

A /. 


sons of J light, | 

A .-. [ A .*. | 


Angels ! | 7 for 


ye be-j hold him, 


7 and with 


songs 7 


A ,\ | A .*. 


A .\ 1 A 


A .'. /. 


A .*. 


7 And choralsymphonies, 

A .'. i A .*. ( A .*. .*. 


7 7 
A / 


day without | night, 7 

A /. .*. A .'. 


Circle his throne 7 re- | joicing. | 7 7 


Ye in 


A .*. .*. A 


A /. | A .\ J A /. 


A /. 


heaven! | 7 7 




A .;, | A .-. 




7 On | earth, 


7 join 7 


all ye 


creatures 


A .*. | A . 


A .'. 


A .\ 


A /. 


7to ex- 


tol 7 




A .'. .'. 


A .*. 




Him 


first, 7 hi 


m last, 7 


him | midst 


and without 


A .'. 


A .\ A 


.'. A .*. 


A.*. | A /. 


A .*. .*. 


end. 7 


7 I 77 




A.'. A 


,. | A ,. 




Fairest of stars 


! 7 7 7 


last in the 


train of 


night 7 


A .\ .*. A 


.*. A .*. 


A .*. .\ 


A .\ 


A .\ 


7 If 


better thou 


be- long not to the 


dawn, 




A .'. 


A /. .*. 


A .\ .*. .'. 


A .*. 




Sure 

A /. 


pledge of 

A 


day, 7 that 

A .\ A /. 


crown'st the 

A .'. .*. 


smiling 

A .*. 


morn 7 




A .\ 




With thy bright 

A .\ A 


7 circlet, 

.*. A .'. 


7 7 
A .*. 


praise him in thy 
A .\ .". .*. 


sphere, 7 

A 




While 

A .\ 


1 day a 

' . A •' 

prime. 7 

A /. A 


111 

.*. A .'. 


ses, 






tha 

A 


t 


3W 


ee 


t 


hour of 

A 



EXERCISES. 



207 



Thou 


Sun! 


7 


7 7 


7 of 


this 7 


great 7 


world 




A ,\ 


A 


A .'. 


A .*. 


A .*. 


A .\ 


A .\ 




7 both 


eye and 


soul, 7 




A .'. 


A .\ 


A .'. 




7 Ac- 


knowledge j him 7 


thy 


greater ; 


7 7 | sound 


A .*. 


A 


.*. 


1 A 


.*. 


£ 


\.\ 


A .*. 


A 


.*.! A 





course, 

A .*. 



his praise 
A .*. 
In thy e- ternal 

A .\ /. A /. 

And when | high 7 

A .\ A .*. 



Moon! 

A .\ 



77 

A /. 



noon hast 

A 



both when thou 
A 

gain'd, 7 



climb'st, 

A 

and when 

A 



thou 


fall'st. 

A /. 


7 7 
A ,\ 


7 7 
A .*. 








7 that 


now 


meet'st the 


orient 


sun, 


now 


A ,♦ 




A .'. 


A 


/. 


A.*. .*. 


A.*. 


A .\ , 



fly'st, 7 



7 With the Ifix'd 7 

A .\ .% I A .*. 
flies !) 7 



stars, 7 

A .'. 



(fix*d in their 

A .\ /. 



orb that 

A .\ 



7 And 

A .'. 



ye 7 

A .*, 
move 7 

A .*. 



five 

A .*. 



other 

A .*. 



wand'ring 

A 



fires! 

A .*. 



7 that 

A .V 



7 In 

A /. 



His 

A .*. 



mystic 

A .\ 
sound 7 

A .', 

praise, I 7 who 

A .\ |A .*. 



dance, I 7 7 

A .'. A .'. 



not without 

A /. .*. 



song ! 

A .*. 



out of 

A .*. 



darkness 

A .*. 



call'd 7 

A .'. 



7 re- 

A .*. 



up 7 I 

A /J 



Air, 7 
A .'. 



light 7 


7 7 


7 7 












A /. 


A .*. 


A .\ 






7 and ye 


elements ! 


7 the 


eldest 


birth 7 


A .*. 


.'• 


A 


.*. .*. 




A .*. 


A : r 


A 





208 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



Nature's 

A /. 
petual 



7 Of 

A .*. 
7 Per- 

A .*. 

7 And 

A \ 

Vary to our 

A.'. .*. .". 



Ye 

A/. 



womb, j that in qua- 

A ;\ A /. .\ 



ternion 

A .". .'. 



circle 
A ,\ 



7 7 
A .\ 



multiform and 

A .\ ,\ .'. 



nourish I all things, let your 



A 
great 

A 



A 

Maker 

A .*. 



ceaseless 

A 



still 

A 



run 7 

A /. 

mix 

A/. 
change 

A /. 
7 



new 

A 



praise. 


7 r i 


f 


7 7 


A .*. 


A .*. 


A/. 


mists 


7 and 


exha- 


A .*. 


A 


,*. 




A .*. 



lations ! 

A .*. 



| 7 that 



now 

A .*. 



rise 7 

A .*. 



7 From I hill or 

A .\ ! A .*. 

7 Till the 

A .\ /. 



steaming j lake, 7 dusky or 



7 In 

A /. 



sun 7 

A .'. 
gold, 7 I 
A .\ I 
honor to the 

A .\ /. .*. 



I A 
paint your 

A 



A 

fleecy 



A/. , 
skirts with 

A 



world's 

A .'. 



great 7 

A .*. 



Whether to 

A .*. /. 



deck with 

A 



clouds 7 

A 



Author 

A .*. 
7 the un- 

A .*. .*. 



rise ; 7 

A .', 

color' d 

A .*. 



sky 

A 
it the 
^ .*. 

3r| fal 

.\| A 

7 7 
A .* 



7 Or 1 


wet the 


thirsty 


earth with 


falling 


showers, 7 


A .*. 1 A .\ 


A /, 


A 


A .*. 


A 


Rising 


7 orj falling 


7 7 


still ad- | vance 


7 his 


A .\ 


A .-.| A 




A 


•'• 


A /. 


1 A : 


• 


A /. 



praise. 

A .*. 



His 

A.*. 



praise, 

A .*. 

quarters 
A ,% 



7 ye 

A .*. 



7 7 I 

A /.I 

winds 

A 

blow, 7 
A .'. 



7 I 7 that from 



I A 



four 7 

A .% 



EXERCISES. 



209 



Breathe j soft or j loud ! 7 I 7 and j wave your j tops, 7i 



A 



pmes / 

A .'. 



A 



7 7 j 7 in 
A .\| A .*. 



A /. I A 

7 ye 

A .*. 

7 With I every | plant, 

A .\ I A .\ I A .*. 
wave. 7 7 7 7 
A /■ A ,\ A /. 

Fountains 

A 

7 Me 



tune his praise. 

A .*. A .*. 
Join j voices I all ye living I souls, j 7 7 



A 



sign of I worship, 



A 



s! 


7 and 


ye that 


warble 




7 as ye 


riow, | 




A .*. 


A .*. 


A .'. 


A /. .*. 


A/, j 


lodious 


murmurs, 


7 7 


warbling 


77! 


L 


S .'. .*. 


A .'. 




A ; 




A .'. 




A .'. | 



A .". I A 

7 That 

A .\ 

Bear on your 



A /, 



A .*. I A .-. A .* 



singing, 

A /. 



up to I heaven's 

A .*. I A .*. 



7 Ye | birds, 7 

a .-. ! _ .-. 

cend, , 

A * 



gate as- 

A .-. 



praise 

A .*. 

Ye tliat in ^ 

A /. /. A 
7 The j earth, 

A .*. I A .*. 

creep ! 7 

A 

Witness if j I be 

A .*. .*. I A .*. 

• 7 To j hill or 

A .'. I A .*. 



wings, 


and in ; 


^our 


notes 7 his 7 


A .*. 


A .*. .*. 


A .-. | A /. 


17 717 7 




\& /JA .* 




ters 


glide, | 7 and 


ye that 


walk 7 




A .*. | A .*. 


A .*. 


A .\| 


7 and 


stately 


tread | 7 or | lowly 


A 


.*. 


A .\ 


- 


^ . 


. ,A 


A .*. 



silent, I morn 

A .*. I A .*. 



/ or 

A .*. 



valley, 

A .*. 



fountain or 

A .*. .*. 



even, 

A .*. 

fresh 7 

A .*, 



shade, 

A .'. 



7 7 

A .*. 



Made 
A .:. 

praise 

A /. 



vocal by my song, I 7 and taught 7 



A .\ .*. .*. 

, j 7 7 I 7 7 

I A.'. A.*. 



A .*. jA 



A 



his 71 

A ,\\ 



18* 



210 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



Hail 


uni- 


versal 


Lord! 


7 7 


7 be 


bounteous 


still, 


A.'. 


A.\ 


A .% 


A /. 


A .\ 


A .*. 1 A .\ .*. 


A.*. 


7 To 


give us j only 


good ; 7 


and if the 


night 7 j 


A .% 


A .*. 1 A/. 


A 


A /. .*. 


A /.j 


7 Have 


gather' d 


aught of 


evil 7 or con- | ceal'd 7 


A .\ 


A .\ 


A ,\ 


A.*. 


A .*. .\ 1 A 


7 Dis- 1 perse it, 


7 as 


now 


light 7 


7 dis- 


pels the 


A ,\ 1 A .\ 


A .% 


A .'. 


A ,\ 


a :\ 


A i\ 


dark. 


7 7 j 7 7 






A 


A. 




A ,\ 


I A 



















REVELATIONS. 



CHAPTER V. 



And they 

A .% 

worthy to 

A .". .\ 

seals thereof : 

A /. .\ 



art 



sang a 

A /. 

take the 

A 
7 7 
A .'. 



re- 



every 

A /. 



nation ; 
A .\ 
kings anc 

A 
earth 

A /. 



deemed us to 

A .*. .*. .*. 

kindred, 

A .\ 
7 7 
A /. 



new I song, 7 

A .*. | A 

book, 

A .*. 
for thou wast 

A .'. 

God 

A .\ 



7 7 
A .*, 



Thou 

A 
open the 
a ,•; /. 

hast 



7 and 
A .\ 
and hast 
A .% 



7 7 
A/ 



priests : 

A /. 
7 7 
A .% 



A .*, 
tongue, 

A .*. 

j made 

. I A 
7 7 
A / 



us 



saying 

A .'. 
7 and to 
A .*. .\ 

slain, 1 7 and 

A /. I A .*. A 

out of I 

A .'. | 

7 and 
,A .*. 
God 7 
A /. 
reign on the 

A .*. /. 



7 by thy j blood 7 

I A .\ 

people, 

A .". 



7 and 

A .*. 

unto our 

A /. .'. 



And I be- 

A /. /. 



and we shall 

A /. /. 

held, 

A /. 



7 and I 

A /. .'. 



heard 

A 



EXERCTSES. 



211 



the voice of 

A .*. 
7 and the 

A .\ /. 

number of them 

A .*. .*. /. 



many 

A .*. 



beasts, I 7 and the 
A .*. ! A .*. .*. 



angels I round a 

A .*. I A / 

elders : 



7 was 

A .*. 



thousand, 7 and 

A .'. A .*. 

saying with a I loud 
A .\ .\ /. ' A .*. 



ten 7 

A .*. 

thousands of 

A .\ /. 



bout the 

A ,\ 

7 7 
A .\ A ,-. f 

thousand times 
A .*. I A .*. 
j thousands ; 



that was 



slain 7 

A .\ 

7 and 

A .*. 
7 and 

A .*. 



voice, 

A .*. 
7 to re 
A /. .*. 
wisdom, 

A /. 
glory, 
A .\ 



riches, 
A .-. 
honor, 7 and glory, 7 and 

A ,\ A .*. A .'. A- 

7 And every creature 

A .*. A .*. A .*. 

and on the earth, 

A .-. /. A ;\ 

such as are 7 in the 

A .'. /. A .*. .-. 
heard I I saying, 

A .*. I A .*. 

7 and l glory, 

A /. I A .*. 

sitteth upon the I throne, 7 

A .'. A /. /. I A 

7 for I ever I 7 and I ever, 

A .'. I A .*. I A ,\ I A .*. 



7 7 
A .*, 

ceive 

A .". 

7 and 

A .*. 



I A 

Worthy is the 
A .-. .*. /. 

power, 

i A .*. 



throne, 

A .\ 
7 and the 

A .\ »\ 

ten 7 

A .\ 
I 7 7 
I A /. 

Lamb 

A 
7 and j 

A .*. 



strength, | 7 and 

A /.A .*. 



blessing 
A .*. 
which is in 
A .*. .\ 



7 7 
A /. 



7 7 
A.'. 



7 and 

A .'. 

I sea, 
I A.*. 
7 7 
A /. 
7 and 
A .*. 



under the I earth, 

A .'. .\ ' A /. 
7 and \ all that are 
A .*. I A .\ .*. 

Blessing, j 7 and 
A .*. I A .'. 

power, j be unto 

and unto the 

A /. /. /. 
7 7 17 7 j 
A.*. I A/. I 



A 



heaven, 
A ,\ 
7 and 
A .*. 

in them, 

I A .\ 

I honor, I 

I A .'. I 

him that I 

A .\ I 
Lamb, 7 i 

A /. 



212 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



NINTH CHAPTER OF JOHN. 



And as | Jesus | passed | by, 7 | 7 he | saw a | man 
which was | blind from his | birth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And his 
dis- | ciples | asked him, | saying, | Master, j who did | 
sin, 7 j 7 this | man | 7 or his | parents, | that he w r as | 
born 7 | blind 3 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | answered, | Neither 
hath this | man | sinned | nor his | parents : | 7 7 | but 
that the ] works of | God | 7 should be | made 7 | ma- 
nifest in him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | I must | work the | works 
of | him that | sent me, | while it is | day ; | 7 7 | 
7 the | night | cometh | 7 when ) no 7 | man j can 7 j 
work. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 As | long | 7 as j I am in the | 
world, 7 | I am the | light | 7 of the j world. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | When he had | thus 7 | spoken, | 7 he | spat on 
the | ground, 7 | 7 and | made | clay | 7 of the | spit- 
tle, | and he a- | nointed the | eyes 7 | 7 of the | 
blind | man | 7 with the | clay, 7 | 7 and | said unto 
him, | Go, 7 | wash in the J pool of | Siloam, | 77|(which 
is, by in- | terpre-| tation, | Sent.) 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | went 
his | way, | therefore, | 7 and | washed, | 7 and | 
came | seeing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | neighbours, | therefore, | 7 and | they which 
be- | fore had | seen him, | that he was | blind, | 7 7 | 
said, 7 | Is not | this 7 | he that | sat and | begged ? | 
7 7 | 7 7 | Some | said, 7 | This I is | he ; | 7 7 | 
others | said, 7 | He is | like him : | 7 7 | 7 but | he | 
said, | 7 I | am | he. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore | said they 
unto him, | 7 7 | How | were thine | eyes | opened ? | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | answered and | said, J 7 A j man | 
7 that is | called | Jesus, | made | clay, | 7 and a- | 



EXERCISES. 213 

nointed mine | eyes, 7 | 7 and | said unto me, | Go to 
the | pool of | Siloam, | 7 and | wash : 7 | 7 7 | 7 and 
I j went and | washed, | 7 and I re- | ceived | sight. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | Then | said they unto him, | 7 7 | Where | 
is he ? | 7 7 | 7 He j said, 7 | 7 I | know not. | 7 7 | 

7 They | brought to the | Pharisees ] him that a- | 
fore time | 7 was | blind. | 7 7 | And it was the | sab- 
bath | day 7 | 7 when | Jesus | made the | clay, | 
7 and | opened his | eyes. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then a- | gain 
the | Pharisees | also | asked him | how he had re- | 
ceived his j sight. | 7 7 | 7 He | said unto | them, | 
7 He | put 7 | clay 7 | 7 upon mine | eyes, ] 7 and I | 
washed j and do | see. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore said | 
some of the j Pharisees, | 7 This | man is | not of | 
God, | 7 be- | cause | 7 he | keepeth not the | sab- 
bath | day. ] 7 7 | Others | said, 7 | How can a | man 
that is a | sinner, | do such | miracles? | 7 7 | And there 
was | 7 a di- | vision a- | mong them. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 
7 They | say unto the | blind | man a- | gain, 7 | 7 7 ] 
What ! sayest | thou of him ? | that he hath | opened thine | 
eyes ? | 7 7 | 7 He | said, 7 | He is a | prophet. | 7 7 
7 7 | 

7 But the | Jews | did not be- | lieve con- | cerning 
him ! 7 that he | had been i blind, | 7 and re- ceived 
his j sight, j 7 un- | til they | called the j parents of j him 
that had re- j ceived his | sight. | 7 7 | 7 And they | ask- 
ed them, j saying, | 7 7 | Is I this your | son, ! who ye j 
say | 7 was j born | blind ? 7 | 7 7 | how j then 7 ] doth 
he j now 7 | see ? 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 His | parents | answer- 
ed them I 7 and ; said, 7 7 | 7 We | know that J this is 
our I son, 7 I and that he was born blind : 7 I 7 7 j But 



214 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

by I what 7 | means | 7 he | now | seeth, | 7 we j know | 
not ; 7 | 7 or [ who hath | opened his | eyes, | 7 we | know 
not : | 7 7 | he is of | age, 7 | ask 7 j him, 7 | he shall | 
speak for him- | self. 7 I 7 7 | 7 7 | 

These J words 7 | spake his | parents, | 7 be- | cause 
they | feared the | Jews : | 7 7 | 7 for the | Jews had a- | 
greed al- | ready, | that if | any man | 7 did con-] fessthat 
he was | Christ, | he should be | put 7 | out of the | 
synagogue. | 7 7 j 7 7 [ Therefore ] said his | parents, | 
he is of | age, 7 | ask 7 | him. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Then a- | gain 7 | called they the | man that was | 
blind, | 7 and | said, 7 | Give 7 | God the | praise : | 
7 we | know that | this 7 | man 7 | 7 is a | sinner. | 
7 7 | 7 7 [ 7 He | answered and | said, 7 | Whether he | 
be a | sinner or j no, 7 | 7 I | know not ; | 7 7 | one | 
thing I | know, | 7 that where- | as I | was 7 | blind 7 | 
7 7 | now7 | 71 | see. | 77 | 77 | Then 7 | said they | 
to him a- | gain, 7 | What | did he to thee ? | 7 7 | 
How 7 | opened he thine | eyes ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | 
answered them, | 7 I have | told you al- | ready, | 7 and 
ye | did not | hear : | 7 7 | wherefore | would ye | hear 
it a- | gain ? | 7 7 | 7 Will | ye | also | be his dis- | ci- 
pies ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then they re- | viled him, | 7 and | 
said, | Thou art | his dis- | ciple ; | 7 but | we are | 
Moses' dis- | ciples. j 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | know that | 
God 7 | spake unto | Moses : | 7 7 | as for | this 7 | fel- 
low, | 7 we | know not from | whence he | is. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 The | man | answered and j said unto them, | 
7 7 | Why, 7 | herein | 7 is a | marvellous | thing, | 
7 that ye | know not from | whence he | is, 7 | 7 and | 
yet he hath | opened mine | eyes. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Now we | 
know that | God 7 | heareth not | sinners ; | 7 7 | but if J 



EXERCISES. 215 

any man | be a | worshipper of | God, 7 | 7 and | doeth 
his | will, 7 | him he | heareth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Since the | 
world be- | gan 7 | was it not | heard, | 7 that | any man | 
opened the | eyes of | one that was | born 7 | blind. 7 | 
7 7 | 7 If | this | man were | not of | God, | 7 he could | 
do | nothing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 They j answered and | said 
unto him, | 7 7 | Thou wast | alto- | gether | born in | 
sins, j 7 and dost | thou | teach 7 | us ? | 7 7 | And they | 
cast him | out. j 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Jesus | heard that they had | cast him | out; 7 | 7 and i 
when he had j found him, j 7 he | said unto him, | 7 7 | 
Dost thou be- j lieve on the | Son of | God ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 He | answered and | said, 7 |Who | is he |Lord ? |7 7 | 
that 1 1 might be- ] lieve on him ? | 7 7 ] 7 7 | 7 And | Je- 
sus j said unto him, | 7 7 | Thou hast both | seen him, | 
7 7 ! and it is I he that | talketh with thee. | 7 7 I 7 7 | 
And he j said, 7 j Lord, | 7 I be- j lieve. j 7 7 j And 
he \ worshipped him. | 7 7 j 77 | 

7 And | Jesus | said,7 | 7 7 | 7 For (judgment |7 lam | 
come into this | world : | 7 7 | 7 that | they which | see] 
not, j might 7 | see ; 7 | and that | they which | see, 7 | 
might be| made | blind. | 7 7 | 7 7| 7 And | some of the | 
Pharisees |7whichwere ] with him | heard these | words, | 

and I said unto him | 7 7 j 7 Are { we j blind j also ? 
J 7 7 I 7 7 j Jesus | said unto them, | 7 7 j If ye were | 
blind, 7 j 7 7 j ye should have | no 7 | sin : j 7 7 | 7 but 
j now ye j say, 7 | 7 We | see ; | 7 7 | Therefore j 
7 your | sin re- | maineth. j 7 7 | 7 7 j 



216 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



OF EMPLOYING INDIi^? TO FIGHT AGAINST THE AMER- 
ICANS. 

I | cannot, | 7 my | Lords, 7 | 7 I | will not, | join in 
con- | gratu- j lation | on mis- | fortune | 7 and dis- | grace. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | This | 7 my | lords, 7 | 7 is a | perilous | 7 and 
tre- j mendous | moment ; | 7 7 | 7 it is | not a | time for | 
adu- | lation : \ 7 7 | 7 the | smoothness of j flattery | can- 
not | save us j 7 in this | rugged and | awful | crisis. | 7 7 | 
7 7 j 7 It is now | necessary | 7 to in- | struct the | throne | 
7 in the | language of j truth. |7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | must, 7 j 
7 if | possible, | 7 dis- | pel the de- I lusion and | darkness | 
7 which en- | velope it ; | and dis- | play, 7 | 7 in its | 
full | danger | 7 and | genuine | colors, | 7 the | ruin | 
7 which is j brought to our j doors, j 7 7 J 7 7 | Can | 
ministers | still pre- j sume to ex- J pect sup- j port 7 j 
in their in- j fatu- j ation ? J 7 7 | 7 Can j Parliament j 
7 be | so | dead to its | dignity and | duty, j 7 as to j give 
its sup- j port 7 | 7 to j measures J thus ob- j truded 
and | forced up- | on it? j 7 7 j Measures, j 7 my 
lords, 7 | which have re- j duced this j late J flourishing 

| empire J 7 to j scorn and con- j tempt? j 7 7 j But | 
yesterday, | 7 and | England } might have j stood against 
the | world ; j 7 7 } now, 7 j none so j poor | 7 as to j 
do her | reverence ! j 7 7 | 7 The | people, | (whom we 
at | first de- J spised as j rebels, | 7 but J whom we | now 
ac- j knowledge as j enemies,) j 7 are a- J betted a- j 
gainst us, j 7 sup- j plied with | every } military j store, 

j 7 their j interest con- | suited, j 7 and their am- | bas- 
sadors j enter- [ tained | 7 by our in- J veterate j enemy ; 



EXERCISES. 217 

| 7 7 | 7 and | ministers | do not, | 7 and ] dare not, j 
inter- | pose 7with | dignity | 7 or ef- j feet. | 7 7 J 7 7 [ 
7 The j desperate j state of our | army a- j broad j 7 is in 
| part 7 | known. | 7 7 j 7 7 | ±<o man j 7 more | highly 
es- | teems and | honors the | English | troops | 7 than 
| I do : | 7 7 | 7 I | know their | virtues | 7 and their | 
valor ; | 7 7 | 7 I | know they can a- | chieve 7 | any 
thing | but im- | possi- | bilities ; | 7 7 | and I | know | 
that the | conquest of | English A- | merica | is an im- 
| possi- | bility. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 You | cannot, | 7 my | 
Lords, | 7 you | can- | not 7 | conquer A- | merica. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | What is your | present | situ- | ation | there ? 
| 7 7 | 7 We | do not | know the | worst : | 7 7 | but 
we | know that in | three | campaigns | 7 we have | 
done j nothing | 7 and | suffered | much. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 
] You may J swell every ex- j pense, j 7 ac- | cumulate 
| every as- | sistance, | 7 and ex- | tend your | traffic 
| 7 to the | shambles of | every j German ] despot ; | 
77 | your at- | tempts 7 | 7 will | be for- | ever j vain and 
| impotent; | 7 7 | doubly | so 7 | 7 in- | deed, 7 | 
from this | merce- | nary | aid I T on j which you re- ] 
ly ; 7 | 7 7 | for it | irritates, | 7 to an in- | curable re- | 
sentment, I 7 the I minds of your | adversaries, | 7 to I 
over- I run them I with the I mercenary \ sons of | rapine 
and | plunder, | 7 de- | voting j them and their pos- | 
sessions I 7 to the ra- | pacity of j hireling j cruelty. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 

But | 7 my | Lords, \ who is the | man, 7 | that in ad- 

| dition |7to the dis- | graces and | mischiefs of the | war, 

| 7 has | dared to | authorize I 7 and as- | sociate to our 

I arms, | 7 the ! tomahawk | 7 and | scalping | knife of 

the | savage ? | 7 7 I 7 to I call into | civilized al- ,' liance, 

19 



218 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

j 7 the I wild and in- | human in- I habitants | 7 of the | 
woods? | 7 7j7 to j delegate | 7 to the I merciless I Indian, 

! 7 the de- ! fence of dis- | puted | rights, | 7 and to | 
wage the | horrors of his j barbarous | war — 7 a- | gainst 
our | brethren ? j 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 My | Lords, | these e- | 
normities | cry a- | loud | 7 for re- | dress and ] punish- 
ment. | 7 7 | But my j Lords | 7 this | barbarous | mea- 
sure | has been de- | fended, | 7 7 [ not | only on the | 
principles of | policy | 7 and ne- | cessity, | 7 but | also 
on | those of mo- | rality ; | 7 7 | " for it is | perfectly 
al- | lowable," j says | Lord I Suffolk, | 7 "to | use | all 
the j means ] 7 which | God and | Nature | 7 have | put 
into our | hands." j 7 7 | 7 7 | I am as- | tonished, j 7 I 
am j shocked, j 7 to I hear such | principles con- I fess- 
ed ; I 7 7 | 7 to | hear them a- | vowed in | this I house, I 
or in | this I country. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | Lords j 7 I j did 
not in- | tend to en- | croach so | much 7 | 7 on your at- 
tention , | 7 7 | but I | cannot re- | press my | indig- | na- 
tion | 7 7 | 7 I | feel my- | self im- | pelled to | speak. 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | Lords | 7 we are | called upon | 7 as 
members of this | house, | 7 as | men, 7 | 7 as | Chris 
tians, | 7 to pro- | test against j 7 such | horrible bar- 
barity ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | " That | God and | nature | 7 have 
put into our | hands!" | 7 7 | What i-| deas of | God and 
nature, | that | noble | Lord may | enter- | tain, | 7 I 
know not ; | 7 7 | but I | know that | such de- | testable 
principles | 7 are | equally ab- | horrent | 7 to re- | ligion 
7 and hu- | manity. | 7 7 | 7 7 | What 7 | 7 to at- | tri- 
bute the | sacred | sanction | 7 of | God and | nature | 7 to 
the | massacres | 7 of the | Indian | scalping | knife ! J 7 to 
the | savage,| torturing] 7and | murdering |7 his un- | hap- 
py | victims ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Such | notions | shock 7 | every 



EXERCISES. 219 

| sentiment of | honor. | 7 7 | 7 7 | These a- | bominable | 
principles, | 7 and this |more a- | bominable a- | vowal of 
| them, | 7 de- [ mand the | most de- | cisive | indig- | na- 
tion. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 1 1 call upon | that | right 7 | reverend, 
1 7 and | this most | learned | Bench, | 7 to | vindicate j 7 the 
re- | ligion of their | God 7 | 7 to sup- | port tlie | justice 
of their | country. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 1 1 call upon the | Bishops 
| 7 to | inter- | pose the un- | sullied | sanctity of their | 
lawn, | 7 7 | upon the | Judges j 7 to ] inter- | pose the j 
purity of their | ermine, ] T to | save us from | this pol- \ 
lution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | call upon the | honor of your | 
lordships, | T to | reverence the | dignity of your | ances- 
tors | and to main- | tain your | own. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 1 1 call 
upon the | spirit | 7 and hu- | manity |7of my | country, j 
7 to | vindicate the | national | character. | 7 7 | 7 7 1 1 in- 
| voke the | Genius of the | British | consti- | tution. j 7 7 j 
7 7 | From the | tapestry | 7 that a- | dorns | these | walls, 
| 7 the im- | mortal | ancestor |7of this | noble | lord |frowns 
with | indig- | nation | 7 at the dis- | grace of his | country. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In | vain did | he de- | fend the | liberty, | 
7 and es- I tablish the re- | ligion of | Britain, | 7 a- | 
gainst the | tyranny of | Rome, | if these | worse than | 
Popish | cruelties, | 7 and in- | quisi- | torial | practices, | 
are en- | dured a- | mong us. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 To | send 
forth the | merciless | Indian, | 7 7 | thirsting for | blood ! 7 1 
7 a- | gainst | whom ? | 7 7 | your | protestant | brethren ! | 
7 7 7 to | lay 7 | waste their | country, | 7 to 
| desolate their | dwellings, | 7 and ex- | tirpate their j 
race and | name, | 7 by the | aid and | instrumen- | tality 
of | these un- | governable | savages ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Spain 
can | no | longer | boast | 7 pre- | eminence | 7 in bar- | 
barity. | 7 7 | 7 7 j She | armed herself 7 | with | blood 



220 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

hounds I 7 to ex- | tirpate the | wretched | natives of | 
Mexico ; | 7 7 | we, | more | ruthless | loose those | bru- 
tal | warriors j T a— | gainst our | countrymen | 7 in A- | 
merica, | 7 en- | deared to us | 7 by | every | tie | 7 that 
can | sanctify hu- | manity. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | solemnly | 
call upon your | lordships, | and upon | every | order of | 
men in the | State, | 7 to | stamp upon | this 7 | infamous 
pro- | cedure | 7 the in- | delible | stigma | 7 of the | pub- 
lic ab- | horrence. | 7 7 | 7 7 | More par- | ticularly, | 7 I 
| call upon the | venerable | prelates | 7 of our re- | ligion, 
| 7 to | do a- | way this i- | niquity : | 7 7 | let them per- J 
form a lus- | tration | 7 to J purify the | country ) 7 from 
this | deep 7 | 7 and | deadly | sin. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 My | Lords, 7 | 7 I am | old | 7 and | weak, | 7 and 
at | present | 7 un- | able to | say | more ; | 7 7 | but my | 
feelings and — indig- | nation I 7 were | too | strong to | 
have al- | lowed me to | say | less. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | 
could not have | slept 7 | this 7 | night | in my | bed, | 
7 nor | even re- | posed my | head | upon my | pillow, | 
7 with- | out 7 1 giving | vent to my | stedfast ab- | horrence 
| 7 of | such e- | normous | 7 and pre- | posterous | prin- 
ciples. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



ON THE BEING OF A GOD, 

Young. 



7 Re- | tire ; 7 | 7 the | world 7 | shut 7 | out ; 7 | 7 thy | 

thoughts | call | home : | 
7 I- | magi- | nation's | airy | wing 7 | 7 re- | press ; 7|7 7| 



EXERCISES. 221 

Lock up thy | senses ; | 7 7 | let no | passion | stir ; 7 | 
Wake | all to | reason : | 7 7 | 7 let | her 7 | reign a- | 

lone ; 7. | 
7 7 | Then 7 | 7 in thy | soul's | deep 7 | silence, | 7 and 

the | depth 7 | 
7 Of | nature's | silence, ) 7 7 | midnight, | 7 7 | thus in- | 

quire, 7 | 
7 As | I have | done ; 7 | and shall in- | quire no | more, j 

7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 In | nature's | channel | thus the | questions | run.| 7 7 1 7 7 1 
" What j am I ? I 7 and from | whence ? | 7 7 | 7 I | no- 
thing I know, 7 I 
But that 1 1 am ; I 7 7 I 7 and | since I | am, | 7 con- | 

elude 7 I 
Something e- j ternal : | 7 7 | had there | e'er been | 

nought, I 
Nought I still had | been : | 7 e- I ternal ! 7 there | must | 

be. 7 I 7 7 I 7 7 I 
7 But I what e- | ternal ? | 7 7 | Why not | human | 

race ? | 7 7 I 
7 And I Adam's | ancestors | 7 with- | out an | end ? 7 [ 

7 7 I 7 7 I 
That's I hard to be con- | ceived ; 7 | 7 since | every | 

link 7 I 
7 Of I that I long 7 | chained sue- | cession | 7 is | so 7 | 

frail ; 7 | 
7 Can j every | part de- | pend, 7 | 7 and | not the | 

whole ? I 7 7 I 

7 Yet I grant it j true ; 7 | new | difficulties | rise ; 7 | 

7 I'm [ still I quite 7 j out at j sea : 7 | 7 nor j see the j 

shore. I 7 7 | 7 7 | 

19* 



222 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Whence | earth, 7 j 7 and { these | bright | orbs ? 7 | 

7 E- j ternal | too? J 7 7 | 
7 7 j Grant | matter | 7 was e- J ternal ; | 7 7 j still 

these | orbs 7 | 
7 Would | want some | other | father ; | 7 7 j much de- | 

sign 7 | 
7 Is | seen in | all their j motions, | 7 7 j all their 

makes ; | 7 7 J 
7 De- | sign | 7 im- | plies in- 1 telligence | 7 and | art 7|7 7 | 
That 7 | can't be | from them- | selves | 7 or | man ; 7 | 

that 7 | art 7 | 
Man | scarce can | compre- [ hend, 7 | 7 could | man | 

7 be- | stow ? 7 | 
7 And | nothing | greater | yet al- | low'd | 7 than | 

man, 7 | 7 7 | 
Who, | motion, | 7 7 | foreign to the | smallest |grain, j 
Shot through | vast 7 | masses I 7 of e-| normous | weight? 7 | 
7 7 | Who | bid 7 | brute 7 | matter's j restive | lump as-| 

sume 7 | 
7 Such | various | forms, 7 | 7 and | gave it | wings to | 

fly? I 7 7 | 
Has | matter | innate | motion? | 7 7 | then 7 | each 7 | 

atom, | 

7 As- | serting its in- | disputable | right 7 | 

7 To | dance, | 7 would | form an | universe of | dust : 7 | 

7 Has | matter | none ? j 7 7 | Then 7 | whence those J 

glorious | forms | 
7 And | boundless | flights, 7 | 7 from | shapeless | 7 and 

re- | posed ? | 7 7 | 
7 Has | matter j more than | motion ? | has it | thought, j 
Judgment and | genius ? | 7 7 | Is it | deeply | learned | 



EXERCISES, 223 

7 In J mathe- | matics ? | 7 7 | Has it | framed | such 7 | 

laws, | 
Which but to | guess 7 | 7 a | Newton | made im- j 

mortal? | 
7 If | so, 7 | how 7 | each 7 | sage | atom | laughs at j 

me, 7 | 
7 Who | think a | clod in- j ferior | 7 to a | man ! 7 | 
7 If | art to | form ; | 7 and j counsel to con- | duct ; 7 | 
7 Re- | sides not | 7 in | each 7 | block ; 7 | 7 a | God- 
head | reigns. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Grant 7 1 then 7 | 7 in- | visible 1 7 e- | ternal | mind ; [7 7 | 
That | granted, | all is | solved | 7 7 | But 7 | granting | 

that 7 | 
Draw I not | o'er me | 7 a still | darker | cloud ? 7 | 
Grant I not | that 7 | which I can | ne'er | con- | 

ceive ? | 7 7 | 
7 A | Being | without | origin \ 7 or | end ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Hail | human | liberty ! | 7 there | is no | God ! 7 | 
7 Yet | why ? 7 | 7 on | either | scheme | that 7 | knot 

sub- | sists ; 7 | 
7 Sub- | sist it | must, 7 j 7 in | God, 7 | 7 or | human | 

race : 
If in the | last, 7 j 7 how j many | knots be- j side, 7 j 
7 In- | dissoluble | all ? | 7 7 j 7 7 | Why | choose it | 

there, 7 j 
Where | chosen | still sub- | sist 7 | ten | thousand | 

more ? | 7 7 | 
7 Re- | ject it, | where | that | chosen | 7 7 | all the | 

rest 7 | 
7 Dis- | persed j leave | reason's | whole ho- |rizon | 

clear? | 7 7 | 



224 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

This is not | reason's | dictate, | 7 7 | reason | says 7 | 
Choose with the | side 7 | 7 where | one 7 | grain | turns 

the | scale ; | 7 7 | 
7 What j vast pre- | ponderance | 7 is | here ! | 7 7 | 

7 can | reason j 
7 With | louder | voice ex- | claim | 7 Be- | lieve a | 

God ? 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | reason | heard | 7 is the | sole | mark of 

man. 7 | 7 7 | 
What | things | 7 im- | possible | 7 must | man | think | 

true, 7 | 
7 On j any | other | system ! | 7 7 | 7 and | how 7 | 

strange | 
7 To | disbe- | lieve j 7 through | mere ere- | du- 

lity !" | 7 7 ) 7 7 | 
If 7 | 7 in | this | chain | 7 Lo- | renzo | finds | no 7 | 

flaw, 7 | 
Let it for- | ever | bind him [ 7 to be- | lief. | 7 7 | 
7 And | where the | link | 7 in | which a j flaw he | 

finds ? | 7 7 | 
And 7 | if a | God there | is, 7 | that | God | how j 

great ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



THE GRAVE. 

Montgomery. 

There is a | calm 7 | for I those who | weep, 7 | 7 7 
7 A | rest 7 | 7 for | weary j pilgrims j found, 7 [ 



EXERCISES. 225 

7 They | softly | lie, 7 | 7 and | sweetly sleep, 7 | 
Low in the ground. | 7 7 | 7 7 ] 

7 The | storm | 7 that | wrecks the | wintery | sky 7 | 
No | more dis- | turbs 7 | their | deep re- | pose, 7 | 
7 Than j summer | evening's | latest | sigh 7 | 7 7 | 

7 That | shuts | 7 the | rose. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 I | long to | lay | 7 this | painful | head 7 | 

7 And | aching | heart 7 | 7 be- | neath the | soil, 7 | 

7 To | slumber in that | dreamless | bed 7 | 

7 From | all | 7 my | toil. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 For | misery | 7 7 | stole me | 7 at my | birth 7 | 
7 And | cast me | helpless | 7 on the | wild : 7 | 7 7 | 
7 I | perish ; | 7 7 | O my | mother | earth 7 | 

Take | home | 7 thy | child. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

On thy | dear | lap 7 | these | limbs re- | clined, 7 | 
7 Shall | gently | 7 7 | moulder | 7 into | thee ; 7 | 
7 Nor | leave | one | wretched | trace be- | hind, 7 | 

7 7 | 7 Re- | sembling | me. 7 | 7 7 1 7 7 1 

Hark ! 7 7 a | strange | sound | 7 af- | frights mine 

ear ; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 My | pulse, | 7 my | brain | runs | wild, | 7 1 1 rave : 7 | 
7 7 1 Ah ! | who art J thou whose | voice 1 1 hear? 7 1 7 7 j 7 7 1 
1 am the | Grave ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | Grave 7 | 7 (that | never | spake be- | fore, 7 | 
7 Hath | found at ] length a | tongue | 7 to | chide : 7 | 
O | listen ! | 7 7 | I will | speak no | more : | 

7 7 | 7 Be I silent, I Pride. I 7 7 | 7 7 | 



226 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 

Art thou a | wretch, 7 | 7 of | hope | 7 for- | lorn, 7 | 
7 The I victim | 7 of con- | suming | care ? 7 | 7 7 | 
Is thy dis- | tracted | conscience | torn 7 | 

7By| fellde- | spair? |7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Do I foul mis- I deeds 7 | 7 of | former | times 7 | 
Wring with re- | morse thy | guilty | breast ? | 
7 And I ghosts | 7 of | unfor- | given | crimes | 
Murder thy | rest ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Lash'd by the | furies | 7 of the | mind, 7 | 

7 From I wrath and | vengeance | 7 would'st thou | 

flee ? 7 I 7 7 I 
Ah ! I think not, | hope not, | fool, 7 | 7 to | find 7 | 

7 A j friend | 7 in | me. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 By I all the | terrors of the | tomb, 7 | 

7 Be- I yond the j power of j tongue | 7 to | tell 7 | 

7 By the | dread | secrets of my | womb 7 | 

7 By I death | 7 and | heU ? | 

7 I I charge thee | live? | 7 re- | pent and | pray; 7 | 

7 In j dust thine | infamy de- | plore ; 7 | 

7 There | yet is | mercy ; | 7 7 | go thy | way 7 | 

7 And I sin7 | 7no | more. | 7 7 | 77| 

7 What I e'er thy | lot 7 | 7 who | e'er thou | be, 7 | 
7 Con- I fess thy | folly, | 7 7 | kiss the | rod, 7 | 
And in thy j chastening | sorrows | see | 

7The {hand | 7of|God.7|7 7|77 

7 A J bruised j reed 7 | 7 he j will not | break ; 7 J 7 7 | 
7 Af- J flictions | all his | children | feel; 7 | 7 7 | 



EXERCTSES. 227 

7 He | wounds them | 7 for his | mercy's | sake, 7 | 

7 He j wounds | 7 to | heal ! 1 7 7 1 7 7 | 



Humbled be- j neath his ] mighty | hand, 7 j 
Prostrate | 7 his | Providence a- | dore : | 
7 Tis | done ! 7 j 7 a- j rise ! 7 j 7 7 j He j bids thee 
stand, 7 | 

7 To j fall | 7 no j more. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Now j traveller in the | vale of j tears ! j 
7 To j realms of ever- j lasting- j light 7 J 
7 Through | time's | dark j wilderness j 7 of j years, 7 
7 Pur- | sue | 7 thy | flight. 7 | 77 | 7 7 

7 There | is 7 | 7 a | calm for | those who j weep, 7 | 
7 A | rest 7 j 7 for j weary j pilgrims | found ; j 
7 7)7 And j while the j mouldering | ashes | sleep 7 j 
Low in the j ground ; | 

7 The | soul 7 | 7 (of | origin | 7 di- | vine 7 | 
God's | glorious | image,) | 7 7 | freed from | clay 7 | 
7 In | heaven's [ 7 e- | ternal | sphere shall | shine 7 | 
7 A | star | 7 of | day ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | sun | is but a | spark of | fire, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 A | transient | meteor | 7 in the | sky, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 The | soul | 7 im- | mortal | 7 as its | sire 7 | 

7 7 | Shall | never | die. | 7 7 | 7 7 ! 



228 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

THE POPLAR FIELD. 

Cowper. 

7 The | poplars are | fell'd, | 7 7 | fare | well j 7 to the | 

shade, 7 | 
7 And the | whispering | sound of the | cool | colo- | 

nade ; 7 | 
7 7 | 7 The | winds | play no | longer | 7 and | sing in | 

the leaves, | 
7 Nor | Ouse | 7 on his | bosom | 7 their | image | 7 

re- | ceives. | 7 7 | 77 | 

Twelve | years | 7 have e- j lapsed, 7 | since I | last 7 | 

took a | view 7 | 
7 Of my | favorite | field, 7 | 7 and the | bank where 

they | grew ; 7 | 
7 And j now in the | grass | 7 be- | hold they are | 

laid, 7 | 
7 And the | tree | 7 is my | seat, 7 | 7 that | once 7 | 

lent me a | shade. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | Blackbird | 7 has | fled to an- | other re- | 

treat, 7 | 
Where tlie | hazels | 7 af- | ford him a | screen from 

the | heat, 7 | 
7 And the | scene | 7 where his | melody | charm'd me 

be- | fore, 7 | 
7 Re- | sounds | 7 with his | sweet | flowing | ditty | 

7 no | more. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

My | fugitive j years \ 7 are | all | hasting a- | way, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | I must ere | long 7 | lie as | lowly as j they, 7 j 



EXERCISES. 227 

7 With a | turf on my | breast, 7 | 7 and a | stone at 

my | head, 7 | 
Ere an- | other such | grove | 7 shall a- | rise in its | 

stead. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 'Tis a | sight to en- | gage me | 7 if | any thing | can | 
7 To I muse | 7 on the j perishing | nature of | 

man ; 7 | 7 7 | 
Though his | life 7 | be a | dream, 7 | 7 his en- | joy- 

ments, | 7 I | see, 7 | 
7 Have a | being | less 7 | durable | 7 7 | even | 7 than 

| he. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



THE ROSE. 

Cowper. 

7 The | rose had been | wash'd, 7 | just 7 | wash'd in a | 

shower, 7 | 
7 Which | Mary to ] Anna | 7 con- | vey'd ; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 The | plentiful | moisture | 7 en- | cumbered the | 

flower, 7 | 
7 And | weigh'd d )wn 1 7 its I beautiful | head.| 7 7| 

7 The | cup was all | fill'd 7 ( and the | leaves were 

all | wet, 7 | 
7 And it | seem'd to a | fanciful | view 7 [ 
7 To | weep for the | buds 7 | it had | left with re- | 

gret 7 | 
On the | flourishing | bush I 7 where it | grew. | 7 7|7 7| 

20 



228 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

I | hastily | seized it | 7 un- | fit as it | was 7 | 
7 For a | nosegay, | 7 so | dripping and | drown'd |7 7[ 
7 And | swinging it | rudely, | too | rudely a- | las ! 7 | 
71 I snapp'dit | 7 it | fell | 7 to the | ground. | 77 1 77 | 

7 And | such 7 | 1 ex- | claim'd | 7 is the | pitiless | 

part, | 7 7 | 
Some 7 | act by the 1 delicate | mind ; | 
7 Re- | gardless I 7 of | wringing and | breaking a | 

heart | 
Al- | ready to | sorrow re- | sign'd. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 

7 This | elegant | Rose, | 7 had I | shaken it | less, | 

Might have | bloom' d with its | owner a | while ; | 

7 And the | tear that is | wiped | 7 with a | little ad- | 

dress, 7 | 
May be | follow'd | 7 per- \ haps 7 j 7 by a | smile, j 7 7 j 77 | 



PARABLE OF THE PRODIGAL SON. 

Luke xv. 

7 And | Jesus | said, j 7 A J certain | man | 7 had j 
two | sons : | 7 7 | 7 And the | younger of them J said 
to his | father, | 7 7 | Father, J give me the | portion 
of | goods | 7 that | falleth to me. | 7 7 | And he di- | 
vided unto them | 7 his | living. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 And | not 7 | many | days | after | 7 the | young- 
er | son 7 | gathered | all to- | gether, | 7 and | took 
his | journey | into a | far | country, | 7 and | there 7 | 
wasted his j substance | 7 with | riotous | living. | 7 7 f 



EXERCISES. 229 

7 7 | 7 And | when he had | spent 7 | all, | 7 there a- | 
rose a | mighty | famine | 7 in | that | land : | 7 7 | And 
he be- | gan to be in | want. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | 
went and | joined himself | 7 to a | citizen j 7 of that j 
country : | 7 7 | 7 and | he | sent him | into his | fields j 
7 to j feed 7 j swine, j 7 7 | 7 7 | And he would j fain 
have | filled himself j 7 with the j husks that the | swine 
did j eat : 7 J 7 7 | 7 but | no 7 | man | gave unto him. j 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | when he | came to | himself, j 7 he j 
said, 7 | 7 7 | How many | hired | servants of my j fa- 
ther's | have ' bread e- j nough | 7 and to j spare, | 7 and 
| I | perish with | hunger ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | I will a- | rise j 7 
and | go to my | father, | 7 and will | say unto him, | 7 7 | 
Father, | 7 I have | sinned against | heaven, | 7 and be- J 
fore | thee, 7 | 7 and am | no 7 | more | worthy to be j 
called thy | son : | 7 7 | make me as | one of thy | hired | 
servants. | 7 7 | 7 7 I 7 And I he a- | rose, | 7 and | came 
to his | father. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 But | when he was | yet | 7 a | great | way | off, | 
7 his | father | saw him, | 7 and | had com- | passion, | 
7 and | ran, | 7 and | fell on his | neck, | 7 and | kissed 
him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | son | said unto him, | 7 7 | 
Father, j 7 I have | sinned against | heaven, | 7 and in | 
thy 7 | sight, | 7 and am | no 7 | more | worthy to be | 
called thy | son. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | But the | father | said to 
his j servants, | 7 7 | Bring forth | 7the | best 7 ) robe, 7 | 
7 and | put it | on him ; | 7 7 | 7 and | put a | ring on his | 
hand, 7 | 7 and | shoes on his j feet : 7 | 7 7 | 7 and | 
bring 7 | hither the | fatted | calf, | 7 and | kill it ; | 7 7 | 
7 and | let us | eat 7 | 7 and be | merry : | 7 7 | 7 For | 
this my | son | 7 was | dead, 7 and is a- | live a- | 



230 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTIONS 

gain ; | 7 7 | he was | lost, | 7 and is | found. | 7 7 | And 
they be- | gan to be | merry. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Now his | elder | son 7 | was in the | field : | 7 7 | And 
as he | came and | drew 7 | nigh to the | house, | 7 he | 
heard | music and | dancing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | 
called | one of the | servants | 7 and | asked | 7 what | 
these | things | meant. | 7 7 | 7 ~ | 7 And he | said un- 
to him, | 7 Thy | brother is | come ; | 7 7 | 7 and thy | 
father |?hath | killed the | fatted | calf,7 | 7 be- | cause he 
hath re- | ceived him | safe and | sound. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
And he was | angry, | 7 and | would not | go | in : | 7 7 | 
therefore | came his | father | out, 7 | 7 and in- | treated 
him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | answering | said to his j fa- 
ther, | 7 7 | Lo these | many | years 7 | 7 do | I | serve 
thee, | 7 7 | neither trans- | gressed I at | any | time | 
7 thy com- | mandment : | 7 7 | 7 and | yet thou | never | 
gavest | me a | kid, 7 | that I might | make | merry with 
my | friends : | 7 7 | But as | soon as | this thy | son | 
7 was | come, 7 which hath de- | voured thy | living 
with | harlots, | thou hast | killed for | him | 7the | fatted | 
calf. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And he | said unto him, | 7 7 | Son, 7 | 
thou art | ever | with me, | 7 and | all that I | have is | 
thine. | 7 7 | 7 7 | It was | meet that | we should make | 
merry, | 7 and be | glad : | 7 7 | 7 for | this thy | brother j 
7 was | dead | 7 and is a- | live a- | gain ; | 7 and was | 
lost, | 7 and is I found, | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



EXERCISES. 231 



PSALM CXXXIX. 

O | Lord, 7 | thou hasc | searched me, | 7 and | 
known me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Thou j knowestmy j down | 
sitting | 7 and mine j up T | rising, | 7 thou j under- | 
standest my | thoughts | 7 a- | far j off. 7 | 7 7 j 7 7 | 
Thou | compassest my | path, 7 | 7 and my | lying | 
down, 7 | and art ac- j quainted with | all my | ways. 1 7 
7 | For there is | not a | word in my | tongue, | 7 but | 
lo, 7 | O 7 | Lord | thon 7 | knowest it | alto- | gether. ! 
7 7 | 7 7 | Thou hast be- | set me | 7 be- | hind and 
be- | fore, 7 | 7 and | laid thine | hand upon me. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | Such 7 | knowledge is | too | wonderful for | me :| 
7 7 | it is ! high 7 | 7 I | cannot at- | tain unto it. [ 7 7| 
77 | Whither shall I I go 7 | 7 from thy | spirit ? | 77 | 7 
or | whither shall I | flee from thy | presence ? | 7 7 | 
7 7 | If I as- | cend 7 | up into j heaven, | 7 7 | thou 
art | there : 1 7 7 j if I | make my | bed in | hell | 7 be- 
| hold, 7 ! thou art | there. | 7 7 | 7 7 | If I ] take the | 
wings of the j morning | 7 and | dwell in the | utter- 
most | parts of the I sea : 7 | 7 7 | Even | there | 7 shall | 
thy 7 | hand 7 | lead me, | 7 and thy | right 7 | hand 
shall | hold me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | If I | say, 7 | Surely the j 
darkness shall | cover me : I 7 7 | even the | night 7 J 
7 shall be | light about me : | 7 7 | Yea | 7 the | dark- 
ness | hideth not from | thee ; | 7 7 ] but the | night | 
shineth as the | day: | 7 7 | 7 the | darkness f and the 
| light 7 j 7 are | both a- j like to | thee. | 7 7 j 7 7 J 

20* 



232 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

AGAINST PROCRASTINATION. 

Young. 

7 Be | wise to- | day ; 7 | 7 'tis | madness ] 7 to de- 
fer ; 7 | 7 7 | 
Next | day J 7 the | fatal | precedent | 7 will | plead, | 7 7 
Thus | on, 7 | 7 till | wisdom | 7 is | pushed | out of 

life. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Pro- 1 crasti- | nation | 7 is the | thief of | time;7 | 7 7 | 7 7 
Year after | year it | steals, | 7 till | all are | fled, 7 | 
And to the | mercies of a | moment | leaves 7 | 
7 The | vast con- | cerns | 7 of an e- | ternal | scene. 7 

77|77| 
If | not so | frequent, | would not | this be | strange? 7 
7 That | 'tis so | frequent, | this is | stranger | still. 
7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Of | Man's mi- | raculous mis- | takes, 7 | this 7 
bears 7 | 
7 The | palm, 7 | 7 that | all men | 7 are a- | bout to 

live, 7 | 
7 For | ever | 7 on the | brink of | being | born. | 7 7 | 7 7 
All | pay themselves the | compliment to | think | 
7 They | one day | shall not | drivel ; | 7 and their | pride 7 
7 On | this re- | version | takes up | ready | praise, 7 | 
7 At | least their | own : | 7 their | future | selves | 7 ap- 
plaud ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
How | excellent | that 7 | life | 7 they | ne'er will 

lead ! 7 | 7 7 | 
Time | lodged in their | own | hands | 7 is | folly's 
vails; I 7 7 I 



EXERCISES. 233 

That 7 | lodged in j fate ? s, | 7 to j wisdom | 7 they 

con- | sign ; | 7 7 | 
7 The j thing they | can't but j purpose, | 7 they post- 
pone ; 7 | 
'Tis not in | Folly, | not to | scorn a | fool ; 7 7 \ 
7 And | scarce | 7 in | human j wisdom, | 7 to j do j 

more. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
All promise | 7 is | poor j dilatory | man, 7 | 
7 And | that 7 j 7 through j every | stage : | 7 7 j 7 when 

young, | 7 in- | deed, 7 | 
7 In j full con- I tent we | sometimes j nobly i rest 7 j 
7 Un- anxious for our- ! selves ; 7 | 7 and j only wish, 7 
7 As j duteous j sons, 7 j 7 our | fathers | 7 were more | 

wise. 7 j 7 7 I 
7 At ! thirty f 7 7 | man | 7 sus- | pects himself 7 a | 

fool ; 7 | 7 7 | 
Knows it at | forty, | 7 and re- | forms his plan ; ; 7 7 ; 
7 At | fifty | 7 7 j chides his | infamous de- | lay. 7 
7 7 i Pushes his j prudent | purpose | 7 to re- solve : 
7 In | all the | magna- | nimity of j thought 7 j 
7 Re- | solves ; 7 | 7 and | re-re- | solves ; 7 | then 7 

dies the I same. I 7 7 I 7 7 I 



EXTRACT FROM COWPER S TASK. 

Book 5. 

7 Ac- I quaint thyself with | God, "7 j T T j if thou 

would'st | taste 7 | 
7 His | works. | 7 7 | 7 Ad- | mitted | once to | his em- j 

brace 7 I 



2o4 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Thou shalt per- | ceive 7 | that thou wast | bliad be- | 

fore : | 7 7 | 
7 Thine | eye shall be in- j structed ; | 7 7 | and thine J 

heart, 7 | 
Made 7 | pure, | 7 shall | relish with di- | vine de- | 

light 7 | 
7 Till | then un- | felt, 7 | 7 what | hands di- | vine 

have | wrought. | 7 7 j 
Brutes | graze the | mountain | top, | 7 with j faces j 

prone | 
7 7 | 7 And j eyes | 7 in- | tent | 7 upon the | scanty | herb, 7 ( 
7 It | yields them ; 7 7 | or re- | cumbent on its \ 

brow 7 | 
Ruminate 1 7 ' -7 | heedless | 7 of the | scene out- | spread 7 [ 
7 Be- | neath, | 7 be- | yond 7 | 7 and | stretching | 

far a- | way 7 | 
7 From | inland | regions | 7 to the | distant j main.) 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Man | views it, | 7 and ad- | mires ; J 7 7 | 7 but | rests 

con- | tent 7 | 
7 With | what he | views, j 7 7 | 7 The j landscape | has 

his | praise, | 
7 But | not its | author. | 7 7 | Uncon- j cerned 7 | 

who | formed 7 | 
7 The | paradise he | sees, j 7 lie J finds it | such 7 | 
7 And | such 7 | well | pleased to | find it, | 7 7 | asks 

no | more. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Not | so the | mind 7 | that has been | touched from | 

heaven, | 
And in the | school of | sacred | wisdom | 7 7 j taught 7 [ 
7 To | read 7 | his 7 | wonders, | 7 in | whose | thought j 

7 the | world, 7 j 7 7 | 
Fair as it j is, 7 J 7 ex- | isted | ere it | was : | 7 7 [ 7 7 | 



EXERCISES. 235 

Not for its | own | sake 7 | merely, | but for | his 7 | 
Much | more, | 7 who | fashioned it, | 7 he | gives it 

praise ; | 7 7 | 
Praise | 7 that from | earth re- | suiting, | 7 7 | as it 

ought 7 | 7 7 | 
7 To|earth's ac- | knowledged | sovereign, j 7 7 | finds at 

once 7 | 
7 Its I only | just pro- | prietor | 7 in | Him. 7 | 7 7 [ 7 7 
7 The I soul that | sees him, | or re- | ceives sub- 
limed 7 I 
New I faculties, | 7 or | learns at | least to em- j ploy 7 
More I worthily | 7 the | powders she | owned be- 
fore, 7 I 
7 Dis- I cerns in | all things | what with | stupid | gaze 
7 Of I ignorance, | 7 till | then she | over- | looked, 7 
7 A j ray of | heavenly | light, 7 | gilding all | forms 7 
7 Ter- | restrial | 7 in the | vast and the mi- | nute ; | 7 7 
7 The I unam- 1 biguous | footsteps | 7 of the | God, 7 
7 Who I gives its | lustre | 7 to an | insect's | wing, 7 
7 And I wheels his | throne 7 | upon the j rolling 

worlds, j 7 7 I 7 7 I 
Much I conversant with | heaven, | 7 she | often 

holds 7 I 
7 With I those | fair | ministers of | light to j man, j 
7 That I fill the | skies 7 | nightly with | silent j pomp, 7 
Sweet I conference. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In- | quires what 

strains were | they 7 | 
7 With I which 7 | heaven | rang, | 7 when | every | 

star in | haste | 
7 To I gratulate the | new-created | earth, 7 | 
Sent forth a | voice, 7 | 7 and j all the | sons of | God 7 j 



236 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Shouted for | joy.7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | "Tell me, | 7 ye 

shining | hosts, 7 j 
7 That | navigate a | sea that | knows j no 7 | storms, 7 
7 Be- | neath a | vault un- | sullied with a | cloud, | 7 7 
If from your | ele- | vation, | 7 7 | whence ye | view | 
7 Dis- | tinctly | 7 7 | scenes 1 7 in- 1 visible to | man, j 7 7 
7 And | systems, | 7 of whose | birth no j tidings | yet 7 
7 Have | reached this | nether | world, | 7 7 | 7 ye 

spy a | race 7 | 
Favoured as | ours ; | 7 7 | trans- | gressors from the 

womb, 7 | 
7 And | hastening to a | grave, 7 | yet 7 | doomed to 

rise, 7 | 
And to pos- | sess a | brighter | heaven than | yours ? 7 7 
7 As | one who | long de- | tained on | foreign j shores, 7 
Pants to re- | turn | 7 7 | and when he | sees a- | far | 
7 His | country's | weather bleached | 7 and | battered 

rocks, 7 | 
7 From the | green | wave e- 1 merging, | darts an | eye 7 
Radiant with | joy 7 | towards the | happy | land ; | 7 7 
So 7 | I | 7 with | animated | hopes be- | hold, 7 | 
7 And | many an | aching j wish, | 7 7 | your | beamy 

fires, 7 | 
7 That | show like | beacons [ 7 in the | blue a- 1 byss, 7 
7 Or- | dained to | guide the em- | bodied j spirit | home 
7 From | toilsome | life 7 | 7 to | never- | ending 

rest. 7 | 7 7 | 
Love | kindles | 7 as I | gaze. | 7 7 | 7 I | feel de- 
sires, | 
7 That | give as- | surance of their | own suc- 
cess, I 7 7 I 



EXERCISES. 237 

And that in- | fused from | heaven 7 | must 7 | thither | 

tend. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
So | reads | he 7 | nature, | 7 7 | whom the | lamp of | 

truth | 
7 II- | luminates. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thy j lamp 7 | 7 mys- | 

terious | word ! | 7 7 | 
7 Which | whoso | sees | 7 7 | 7 no | longer | wanders j 

lost 7 | 
7 With | intellects be | mazed in | endless | doubt, | 7 7 | 
7 But | runs the | road of | wisdom. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thou 

hast | built | 
7 With | means, 7 j # that | were not | till by | thee 

em- | ployed, | 7 7 \ 
Worlds, that had j never | been | 7 hadst J thou in [ 

strength | 
7 Been | less, 7 | 7 or | less be- | nevolent than | 

strong. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
They are thy | witnesses, | 7 7 | who | speak thy j 

power | 
7 And | goodness [ infinite, | 7 but | speak in | ears, | 
7 That | hear not, | 7 or re- | ceive not | their re- | 

port. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 In | vain | 7 thy | creatures | testify of | thee, | 
7 Till | thou pro- | claim thy- | self. | 7 7 | 7 7 j Theirs 

is in- | deed | 
7 A | teaching | voice ; 7 j but 'tis the | praise of j thine j 
7 That | whom | it | teaches | 7 it | makes 7 | prompt 

to | learn, | 
7 7 | And with the | boon 7 | gives | talents | 7 for its | 

use. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Till | thou | 7 art | heard, | 7 i- | magi- j nations | 

vain I 



238 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 Pos- J sess the | heart ; | 7 7 | 7 and | fables | false 

as | hell, | 
Yet | deemed o- | racular, | lure | down to | death, 7 | 
7 The | unin- | formed and | heedless | souls of | 

men. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
We | give to | chance, 7 | blind | chance, 7 | 7 our- | 

selves as J blind | 
7 The | glory of | thy | work ; | 7 7 | 7 which | yet ap- ( 

pears 7 | 
Perfect | 7 and | unim- | peachable of | blame, | 7 7 | 
Challenging | human | scrutiny, | 7 and | proved 7 | 
Then | skilful | most | when most se- | verely | judg- 
ed. | 7 7 | 7 7 I 
7 But | chance is | not ; | 7 7 | 7 or | is not | where | 

thou | reignest: | 7 7 | 
Thy | providence | 7 for- | bids that | fickle | power 7 | 
(7 If | power she | be 7 | 7 that | works but to con- | 

found) 7 | 
7 To | mix her | wild va- | garies | 7 with || thy 

| laws. | 7 7 | 
Yet | thus we | dote, | 7 re- | fusing | 7 while we | can | 
7 In- | struction, | 7 and in- | venting | 7 to our- | selves 7 | 
Gods | such as | guilt 7 | makes | welcome ; | 7 7 | Gods 

that | sleep | 
7 Or | disre- | gard our | follies, | 7 or that | sit 7 | 
7 A- | mused spec- | tators | 7 of this | bustling | stage. | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 
Thee | we re- | ject 7 | un- | able to a- | bide 7 | 
Thy 7 | purity, | 7 till | pure | 7 as | thou art j 

pure; | 7 7 | 
Made | such by | thee, | 7 we | love thee | 7 for | that 7 | 

cause ! 



EXERCISES. 239 

7 For | which we j shunned and | hated thee | 7 be- | 

fore. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Then are we | free. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then | liberty | 

7 like I day, I 
Breaks on the | soul, | 7 7 | and by a | flash from j 

heaven 7 | 
Fires j all the | faculties | 7 with 1 glorious j joy. 7 7 j 7 7 i 
7 A | voice is | heard, | 7 that | mortal | ears 7 l hear 7 : 

not 7 | 
7 Till | thou hast | touched them ; j 7 'tis the j voice of 

song, 7 | 
7 A | loud ho- | sanna j sent from | all thy | works ; 7 | 
7 Which | he that | hears it | 7 with a | shout re- 
peats, 7 | 
7 And | adds 7 | his 7 | rapture | 7 to the | general 

praise. | 7 7 | 
7 In j that 7 | blest | moment | 7 7 | Nature, j throwing | 

wide 7 | 
7 Her | veil o- | paque, | 7 dis- | closes with a | smile 7 j 
7 The | author of her | beauties, j 7 who | 7 re- | tired 
7 Be- | hind his | own ere- | ation, | works un- j seen 7 ; 
By the im- | pure, | 7 and | hears his | power de- | 

nied. j 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Thou art the | source | 7 and | centre of j all | minds, | 
7 Their | only | point of | rest, 7 j 7 e- | ternal 

word ! | 7 7 ] 
7 From | thee de- | parting, | 7 7 j they are | lost 7 | 7 

and | rove | 
7 At | random | 7 with- | out 7 | honour, J hope, 7 J 7 

or j peace. ] 7 7 j 7 7 | 
7 From | thee is | all that | soothes the [ life of j man, j 
7 His | high en- | deavour, | and his | glad sue- | cess, 7 J 

21 



240 GRAMMAR Or ELOCUTION. 

7 His I strength to | suffer, | 7 and his | will to 

serve. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 But | oh thou | bounteous | Giver of | all | good, 7 
Thou | art of | all thy | gifts 7 | 7 thy- | self the 

crown! | 7 7 | 
Give what thou | canst, | 7 with- | out thee | 7 we are 

poor ; | 
7 And | with thee | rich, 7 | take what thou | wilt a- 

away. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



SONNET TO CYRIAC SKINNER. 

Milton. 

Cyriac, | 7 this | three years' | day 7 J these | eyes | 7 

(though | clear, 7 | 
7 To | outward | view, 7 | 7 of | blemish or of | spot) 7 j 
7 Be- | reft of | light | 7 their | seeing | 7 have for- | 

got ; 7 | 7 7 | 
Nor to their | idle | orbs | 7 doth | sight ap- | pear, 7 I 
7 Of | sun, | 7 or | moon, or | star, | 7 through- | out the 

year, 7 | 
7 Or j man or | woman. | 7 7 | Yet I | argue not | 
7 A- | gainst | Heaven's | hand or | will, | 7 nor | bate a [ 

jot 7 | 
7 Of | heart or | hope ; 7 | 7 but | still | bear | up and | 

steer | 
Right | onward. | 7 7 | What sup- | ports me | 7 7 | dost 

thou I ask ? I 



EXERCISES. 241 

7 7 | 7 The | conscience, | friend 7 | 7 to have | lost them 

| over- | plied 7 | 
7 In | liberty's de- | fence, | 7 my | noble | task, 7 j 
7 Of | which | all | Europe | rings 7 | 7 from | side to [ 

side. | 7 7 |77| 
This | thought 1 7 might | lead me | 7 through the | world's | 

vain | mask | 
7 Con- | tent ] 7 though | blind, 7 | 7 had I | no | better | 

guide. [ 7 7 | 7 7 | 



SONNET ON HIS BLINDNESS. 

Milton. 

When I con- | sider | how my [ life | 7 is | spent 7 | 

Ere | half my | days, | 7 in | this | dark | world and 
wide 7 | 

And that | one | talent, | 7 which is | death to | hide, ( 

Lodged with me | useless, | 7 though my | soul | more 
bent 7 | 

7 To | serve therewith | 7 my | Maker | 7 and pre- 
sent 7 | 

7 My j true ac- | count, | lest | he re- | turning 
chide ; | 7 7 | 

Doth | God ex- | act 7 | day | labor, | 7 7 | light de- 
nied ? | 

7 1 1 fondly | ask : | 7 7 | 7 But | patience | 7 to pre- 
vent 7 | 

7 That | murmur, | soon re- | plies, 7 | God doth not | need 



242 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Either | man's | work, | 7 or his | own | gifts j 7 | who 

best 7 | 
Bear his | mild | yoke, | they | serve him | best j | his 

state 7 | 
7 Is | kingly ; | 7 7 | thousands at his | bidding | speed, 
7 And | post o'er | land and | ocean | 7 without | rest ; | 
They | also | serve | 7 who | only | stand | 7 and 

wait. I 7 7 I 7 7 I 



APOSTROPHE TO LIGHT. 

Milton. 

Hail | holy | Light, 7 | 7 7 | offspring of | Heaven | 

first I born, 7 | 
7 7 I Or of the e- | ternal | 7 7 1 co-e- | ternal | beam, | 7 7 | 
May I ex- | press thee j un- | blamed ? 7 | 7 7 | Since 7 | 

God is I light, 7 | 
7 And I never | 7 but in | unap- | proached | light 7 | 
Dwelt from e- | ternity, | 7 7 | dwelt | then in | thee, 7 | 
7 7 I Bright | effluence | 7 of | bright | essence | incre- | 

ate 7 I 7 7 I 7 7 I 
7 Or I hear'st thou | rather, | 7 7 | pure e- | therial [ 

stream, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Whose I fountain | who shall | tell 7 | 7 7 | 7 Be- | 

fore the | sun 7 | 
7 Be- I fore the | Heavens | thou | wert, 7 | 7 7 | and 

at the I voice | 
7 Of I God 7 I 7 7 I as with a | mantle, | 7 didst in- j 

vest7 I 



EXERCISES. 243 

7 The | rising | world of | waters | 7 7 | dark [ 7 and | 

deep 7 | 
7 7 | Won from the | void | 7 and | formless | infi- 
nite. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Thee I re- | visit | now 7 | 7 with | bolder | wing, 7 | 
7 Es- | caped the | Stygian | pool 7 \ 7 7 | 7 | though | 

long de- | tained 7 | 
7 In | that ob- | scure so- | journ 7 | 7 7 | while 7 | 7 in 

my | flight, 7 | 
Through | utter | and through | middle | darkness | 

borne, | 
7 With | other | notes | than to the Or- | phean | lyre | 
7 I | sung of | chaos | 7 and e- | ternal | night. 7 | 7 7 j 7 7 | 
Taught by the | heavenly | muse | 7 to | venture | down 7 | 
7 The I dark de- | scent | 7 7 | 7 and | up to | re-as- j 

cend 7 | 
Though I hard 7 | 7 and | rare ; | 7 7 | Thee I re- j 

visit I safe 7 | 
7 And I feel thy | sovereign | vital | lamp ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 but j 

thou 7 I 
7 Re- I visit' st | not 7 | these | eyes, 7 | 7 that | roll in | 

vain, I 
7 To j find thy | piercing | ray, 7 | 7 7 | 7 and | find j no | 

dawn ; I 7 7 I 
So 7 j thick a | drop se- | rene | 7 hath | quench'd their | 

orbs 7 J 7 7 J 
7 Or I dim suf-| fusion | veil'd. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Yet | 7 not 

the j more 7 | 
Cease I to | wander | 7 7 | where the | Muses | haunt, | 
Clear | spring 7 | 7 or | shady | grove, 7 | 7 or | sunny | 

hill, 7 j 

21* 



244 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTIOxN. 

7 7 | Smit with the | love of | sacred | song ; | 7 7 | 7 

but | chief 7 | 
Thee | Sion, | 7 and the | flowery | brooks be- | neath, 7 | 
7 That | wash | thy | hallow' d | feet, 7 | 7 and | war- 
bling | flow, | 
7 7 | Nightly | 7 1 1 visit : | 7 7 | 7 nor | some- | times | 

7 for- | get 7 | 
Those | other | two | equalled with | me in | fate, 7 | 
7 7 | So were | 1 1 equalled with | them in re- | nown 7 | 
7 7 | Blind | Thamyris | 7 and | blind Mae- | onides, | 
7 And Ty- | resias | 7 and | Phineas, | 7 7 | prophets 

| old : 7 | 7 7 | 
Then feed on | thoughts, | 7 that | voluntary | 

move 7 | 
7 Har- | monious | numbers ; | 7 as the | wakeful | bird 7 | 
Sings | darkling | 7 and in | shadiest | covert | hid 7 | 
7 7 | Tunes her noc- | tumal | note. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thus 

with the | year 7 | 
Seasons | 7 re- | turn, 7 | 7 but | not to | me | 7 re- | 

turns | 
Day | 7 or the j sweet ap- | proach of | even | 7 and | 

morn ; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Or | sight of | vernal | bloom, | 7 or | summer's | rose, 7 | 

7 7| 
7 Or | flocks, 7 | ? or | herds, 7 | 7 or | human | face di- | 

vine ; I 7 7 | 
7 But | cloud | 7 in- | stead, 7 | 7 and | ever | during | 

dark 7 | 
7 Sur- | rounds me, | 7 from the | cheerful | ways of | 

men 7 | 
Cut 7 | off, 7 | and for the | book of | knowledge | fair 7 | 
7 Pre- | sented | 7 with a | uni- | versal | blank 7 | 



EXEItCISES. 245 

7 Of | Nature's | works 7 | 7 7 | 7 to | me | 7 ex- | 

pung'd and | razed 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | Wisdom, | 7 at | one | entrance, | 7 7 | quite shut | 

out. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
So much the | rather | thou, | 7 ce- | lestial | Light 7 | 
Shine | inward, | 7 7 | 7 and the | mind | 7 through | all 

her | powers | 
7 Ir- | radiate | 7 7 | there | plant |7 eyes, | 7 7| all | mist 

from | thence | 
7 7 | Purge and dis- | perse, 7 | 7 7 7 | that I may | see | 

7 and | tell | 
7 Of | things in- | visible | 7 to | mortal | sight. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



FOLK, THE GIFT OF MY COUSIN ANN BODHAM. 

Coivper. 

O that those | lips had | language ! | 7 7 | Life has j 

pass'd 7 | 
7 With | me but | roughly | 7 7 | since I | heard you | 

last. 7 | 7 7 | 
Those | lips are | thine 7 | 7 thy | own | sweet 7 

smile I | see, 7 | 
7 The | same, | 7 that | oft in | childhood | solaced 

me; | 
7 7 | Voice 7 | only | fails, | else 7 | 7 how dis- | tinct 

they | say, 7 | 
Grieve not my | child, 7 | 7 7 | chase | all thy | fears 
, a- | way ! 7 | 7 7 | 



246 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 The | meek in- | telligence of | those | dear | eyes 7 | 
(Blest be the | art, 7 | that can im- | mortalize, | 
7 The | art that | baffles | Time's ty- | ranic | claim 7 | 
7 To j quench it) | 7 7 | here | 7 7 | shines on me | still 
the | same. 7 | 7 7 | 77 | 

Faithful re- | membrancer of | one so | dear, | 

I welcome | guest, 7 | 7 though | unex- | pected j 

here ! 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Who j bidd'st me | honor | 7 with an | artless | song, 7 | 
7 Af- I fectionate, |7 a | Mother | lost so | long. | 7 7 1 7 7 j 

1 will 0- I bey 7 | 7 7 | not 7 | willingly a- | lone, 7 | 

7 But I gladly, | 7 as the | precept | 7 were her | own : ] 
7 And j while that | face re- | news my | filial | grief, 7 j 
Fancy | 7 shall | weave a | charm | for my re- | lief, 7 | 
7 Shall I steep me | 7 in E- | lysian | reve- | rie, 7 [ 
7 A I momentary | dream, 7 | 7 that | thou art | she | 
7 7 I 7 7 I 

7 My I Mother ! | 7 when I | learn'd that | thou wast | 

dead, 7 | 
Say, 7 I wast thou | conscious | 7 of the | tears I | shed ? J 
7 7 I Hover'd thy | spirit I o'er thy | sorrowing j son, 7 | 
Wretch | even I then 7 | life's | journey ! just be- | 

gun? 7 I 77 I 
7 Per- I haps 7 | 7 thou | gav'st me, | 7 7 | though un- | 

felt 7 17 a kiss; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Per- I haps a I tear, | 7 if | souls can | weep in | 

bliss 7 I 
Ah I that ma- | ternal | smile ! 7 | 7 it | answers | 7 7 | 

Yes. 7 j 7 7 I 7 7 I 
I I heard the | bell | toll'd on thy | burial | day, 7 | 



EXERCISES. 247 

7 I j saw the | hearse | 7 that | bore thee slow a- | 

way, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | turning from my | nursery | window, | 7 7 | 

drew 7 j 
7 A | long | long | sigh | ? and | wept a | last a | 

dieu ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 But [ was it | such? 7 | 7 7 | 7 It | was. 7 j 7 7 | 

Where | thou art | gone, 7 | 
7 A- | dieus and | farewells | 7 are a | sound un- j 

known. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
May I but | meet thee | 7 on | that 7 | peaceful | shore, 7 j 
7 The | parting | word 7 | 7 shall | pass my | lips no | 

more ! | 7 7 | 
7 Thy j maidens, | grieved | 7 them- | selves | 7 at | my 

con- | cern, 7 | 
Oft 7 j gave me | promise | 7 of thy | quick re- j turn. 7 | 
What | ardently I | wish'd, 7 j 7 I | long be- | liev'd,. 7 | 
7 And, | disap- | pointed | still, 7 | 7 was | still de- | 

ceiv'd. | 7 7 | 
7 By | expec- | tation | every ( day be- ( guil'd, 7 | 
7 7 | Dupe of to- 1 morrow | 7 7 | even from a | child, 1 7 7 | 
Thus 7 | many a j sad to- 1 morrow | came and | went, 7 
7 Till | all my | stock of | infant | sorrow | spent, 7 j 
7 I | learn'd at | last 7 | 7 sub- | mission to my | lot, 7 j 
But 7 | though I | less de- | plored thee, | ne'er for- i 

got. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Where | once we | dwelt 7 | 7 our j name is j heard 

no | more. 7 | 7 7 | 
Children | not 7 | thine 7 | 7 have | trod my | nursery | 

floor ; 7 | 7 7 | 
And | 7 7 | where the | gard'ner ( Robin, [ 7 7 | (clay 

by | day,) 7 | 



248 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 7 I Drew me to | school | 7 a- | long the | public | 

way, | 7 7 | 
7 (De- | lighted with my | bauble | coach, 7 | 7 and | 

wrapp'd | 
7 In | scarlet | mantle | warm and | velvet | cap'd) 7 | 
7 'Tis | now be- | come a | history | little | known, 7 | 
7 That | once we | call'd the | pastoral | house | 7 our | 

own. | 7 7 | 
Short lived pos- | session ! | 7 7 | but the | record | fair 7 | 
7 That | memory | keeps | 7 of | all thy | kindness | 

there, 7 | 
Still | outlives | many a | storm | that has ef- | faced 7 | 
7 A | thousand | other | themes | 7 less | deeply | traced. | 

7 7 | 
7 Thy j nightly | visits | 7 to my | chamber | made, 7 | 
That thou might' st | know me | safe 7 | 7 and warmly | 

laid, 7 | 
7 Thy | morning | bounties | 7 ere I | left my | home, 7 | 
7 The | buiscuit, | 7 or con- | fectionary | plum ; 7 | 7 7 | 
The | fragrant | waters | 7 on my | cheeks be- | stow'd 7 | 
By thy | own | hand, 7 | 7 till | fresh they | shone 7 | 7 

and | glow'd ; 7 | 
7 7 | All | this, 7 | 7 and | more en- | dearing | still than | 

all* 7 | 
7 Thy | constant | flow of | love, 7 | 7 that | knew | no | 

fall, 7 | 
Ne'er | roughen'd by those | cataracts and | breaks, 7 | 
7 That | humor | 7 inter- | posed | too | often | 

makes ; 7 | 7 7 | 
All | this 7 | (still | legible in | memory's | page, 7 | 
7 And | still to j be so | 7 to my | latest | age) 7 | 
Adds | joy 7 | 7 to | duty, | 7 7 |makes me | glad to | 

pay 7 | 



EXERCISES. 249 

Such I honours | 7 to thee | as my numbers | 

may ; | 
7 Per- | haps a | frail me- | morial, | 7 but sin- [ cere, 7 j 
Not | scorn'd in ] heav'n, 7 | 7 though 7 | little | noticed | 

here. | 7 7 | 

7 Could | time, 7 | 7 (his | flight re- | vers'd,) 7 | 7 re- [ 

store the | hours, 7 | 
When 7 | playing with thy | vesture's | tissued | flow- 
ers, | 7 7 | 
7 (The | violet | 7 the | pink | 7 and | jessamine,) | 
7 I j prick'd them into | paper with a | pin, 7 | 
(7 And | thou wast | happier | 7 than my- | self the | 

while, 7 | 
Would'st | softly | speak | 7 and | stroke my | head 7 | 

7 and | smile) 7 | 
Could 7 | those | |few | pleasant | days 7 | 7 a- | gain 

ap- | pear 7 | 
7 Might | one 7 | wish | bring them, | 7 7 | would I | 

wish them | here ? 7 | 
7 1 | would not | trust my | heart 7 | 7 7 | 7 the | dear de- | 

light 7 | 
Seems | so to be de- | sired, 7 | 7 per- | haps I | 

might 7 | 
7 But | no | 7 what | here we | call our | life 7 | 7 is | 

such 7 | 
7 So | little | 7 to be- | loved, 7 | 7 and | thou | so 7 | 

much, 7 | 
7 That | I should | ill re- | quite thee | 7 to con- | 

strain 7 | 
7 Thy | unbound | spirit | 7 into | bonds a- | gain. 7 [ 

7 7 | 7 7 | 



250 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Thou 7 | 7 as a | gallant | bark, 7 J 7 from | Albi- 
on's | coast 7 | 7 7 | 

7 (The | storms all | weather'd | 7 and the | ocean | 
cross'd) 7 | 

Shoots into | port 7 | 7 at j some well | haven'd | isle, 7 | 

7 Where | spices | breathe, | 7 and | brighter | seasons | 
smile, | 7 7 | 

There 7 | sits qui- | escent on the | floods, j 7 that | 
show 7 | 

7 Her J beauteous | form 7 | 7 re- | fleeted | clear be- | 
low, 7 | 7 7 | 

7 While | airs 7 | 7 im- | pregnated with | incence j 
play 7 | 

7 A- | round her | fanning | light her | streamers | 

7 7 | So | thou, 7 | 7 (with | sails 7 | how 7 | swift !) 

7 | 7 hast | reach'd the | shore, 7 | 
7 Where | tempests | never | beat 7 | 7 nor | billows | 

roar, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And thy | loved | consort | 7 on the | dangerous | 

tide 7 | 
7 Of | life, 7 | long | since has | anchor'd by thy | 

side. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 But | me, | scarce | hoping to at- | tain that | 

rest, 7 | 
Always from | port with- | held, 7 | always dis- J 

tress' d 7 j 7 I \ 
Me | howling | blasts | drive 7 | devious, | tempest j 

toss'd, 7 | 
Sails | ripp'd, 7 | seams | opening | wide 7 | 7 and [ 

compass | lost, 7 | 



EXERCISES. £1$ > -253 

77 I 7 And | day by | day 7 | 7 some | current's j 

thwarting | force 7 | 
Sets me | more 7 j distant | 7 from a | prosperous j 

course. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Yet 7 ] O the j thought, | 7 that | thou art | safe, 7 | 7 

and | he ! 7 | 
That | thought is | joy, ] 7 ar- | rive what | may to j 

me, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 My | boast is | not, 7 j that I de- ! duce my j birth 7 j 
7 From j loins en- | throned | 7 and | rulers of the | 

earth ; 7 | 
7 7 | 7 But | higher | far 7 j my | proud pre- | tensions j 

rise, 7 | 
7 7 | 7 The | son of | parents | pass'd into the | 

skies. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | now, 7 | fare- | well. | 7 7 | Time | unre- | 

voiced j 7 has | run 7 | 
7 His | wonted | course, 7 | yet 7 | what I | wish'd | 7 

is | done. 7 j 
7 7 | 7 By | contem- | plation's | help, 7 | 7 not | sought 

in | vain, 7 j 
7 I j seem to have j lived my j childhood j o'er a- | 

gain ; 7 j 
To have re- j newed the | joys 7 | 7 that | once were j 

mine, 7 | 
7 With- I out the | sin of | violating | thine ; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And f while the | wings of | fancy | still are | free, 7 | 
7 7 I And I can | view this | mimic | show of | thee, 7 | 
Time | has but | half 7 | 7 sue- | ceeded in his | theft 7 j 
7 7 I Thy- I self re- | moved | 7 thy | power to | soothe 

me 1 left. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
22 



254 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

ON SINCERITY. 

From A. B. Tillotson, (Abridged.) 

Truth | 7 and sin- | cerity | 7 have | all the ad- | van- 
tages | 7 of ap- | pearance | 7 and | many | more. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 If the j show of | any thing | 7 be | good for | any 
thing | 7 7 | 7 I am | sure | 7 the re- | ality | 7 is | bet- 
ter : | 7 7 | 7 for | why | 7 does | any man | 7 dis- | sem- 
ble, | 7 or | seem to be | that which he | is not, | 7 7 | but 
be- | cause | 7 he | thinks it | good | 7 to | have the | quali- 
ties | 7 he pre- | tends to? | 7 7 | Now the | best | way 
7 for a | man to | seem to be | any thing, | is to | be in 
re- | ality, | 7 7 | what he would | seem to be : | 7 7 | 7 
be- | sides, | 7 it is | often as | troublesome | 7 to sup- 
port the pre- | tence of a | good | quality, | 7 as to | have 
it ; | 7 and | if a | man | have it not, | 7 it is | most | likely 
he will be dis- | covered to | want it ; | 7 7 | 7 and | then, 
all his | labor to | seem to | have it, | 7 is lost. | 7 7 | 7 7 
7 There is | something | un- I natural | 7 in | painting, 
7 which a | skilful | eye | 7 will | easily dis- | cern | 1 
from | native | beauty | 7 and com- | plexion. | 7 7 | 7 7 

Therefore | 7 if | any man | think it con- | venient to 
seem | good, | let him | he so in- | deed : | 7 7 | 7 and 
then | 7 his | goodness will ap- | pear | 7 to | every one's 
satis- | faction. I 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Par- | ticularly, | 7 7 | as 
to the af- I fairs of | this | world, | 7 in- | tegrity |,7 hath 
many ad- | vantages | over | all the arti- | ficial | modes 
7 of I dissimu- | lation | 7 and de- | ceit. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 It 
is j much the | plainer | 7 and | easier, | 7 7 | much the 
safer, | 7 and | more se- | cure | w T ay of | dealing in the 
world ; I 7 7 j 7 it has I less of | trouble and | difficulty, 



EXERCISES. 255 

7 of en- | tanglement | 7 and per- | plexity, | T of j dan- 
ger and | hazard | 7 in it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7-The | arts of de- | ceit and | cunning | 7 con- I tinu- 
ally | grow | weaker, | 7 and | less | serviceable | 7 to | 
those that | practise them ; | 7 7 | 7 where- | as | 7 in- | 
tegrity | 7 7 | gains | strength by | use ; | 7 7 | and the | 
more and | longer | any man | practiseth it, | 7 the | great- 
er | service | 7 it | does him; | 7 7 | by con- | firming 
his | repu- | tation, | 7 and en- j couraging | those j 7 
with | whom he j hath to j do, | 7 to re- | pose the j 
greatest | confidence j in him : | 7 7 j which is an un- | 
speakable ad- | vantage | 7 in | business, j and the af- | 
fairs of | life, j 7 7 | 7 7 j 

7 But | insin- | cerity | 7 is | very | troublesome to | 
manage, j 7 7 j 7 7 j 7 A | hypocrite | 7 hath so | ma- 
ny | things | 7 to at- | tend to, | 7 as | make his | life | 7 
a | very per- j plexed and | intricate | thing. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 A j liar J 7 hath | need of a | good j memory, | 7 7 | 
lest he | contra- | diet | 7 at | one | time | 7 what he | 
said at an- | other : J 7 7 | 7 but | truth | 7 is | always 
con- | sistent, j 7 and | needs | nothing to | help it | out : 
| 7 7 | 7 it is | always | near at | hand, | 7 and | sits up- 
on our | lips ; | 7 7 | 7 where- | as a | lie | 7 is | trouble- 
some, | 7 and j needs a | great | many | more ] 7 to | 
make it | good. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

7 In a j word, j w T hatso- | ever con- J venience [ may 
be | thought | 7 to | be in | falsehood | 7 and dis- | simu- 
| lation, | 7 it is | soon | over : j 7 7 | but the | incon- | 
venience of it | 7 is per- | petual ; | 7 7 | 7 be- | cause j 
7 it | brings a | man | under an | ever-| lasting | jealousy j 
and sus- | picion ; | 7 7 | so that he is | not be- | lieved 
| 7 when he | speaks the | truth; | 7 7 | nor | trusted j 



256 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 when per- | haps, | 7 he | means | honestly. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | When a | man hath | once | forfeited | 7 the|re- 
pu- | tation | 7 of his in- | tegrity, | 7 7 | nothing will j 
then | serve his | turn : | 7 7 | neither | truth | nor | 
falsehood. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 In- | deed, | 7 if a | man were | only to | deal in 
the | world | 7 for a | day, | 7 7 | and should | never 
have oc- | casion | 7 to con- | verse | more | with man- j 
kind, | it were | then | 7 no | great | matter | 7 (as | far 
as res- | pects the af- | fairs of | this | world,) 7 if 
he | spent his | repu- | tation | all at | once ; | 7 or | 
ventured it | 7 at | one | throw. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But if he | 
be to con- | tinue | 7 in the [ world, | 7 and would | have 
the ad- | vantage of | repu- | tation | whilst he is | in it, | 
let him | make | use of | truth | 7 and sin- | cerity | 7 in | 
all his | words and | actions ; | 7 7 | 7 for | nothing but | 
this | 7 will | hold | out | 7 to the | end. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
All | other | arts may | fail ; | 7 but | truth | 7 and in- | 
tegrity | 7 will | carry a | man | through, | 7 and | bear 
him | out | 7 to the | last. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



HYDER ALL 

Extract from a speech of Mr. Burke. 

When at | length | Hyder | Ali | found, | 7 that he 
| had to [ do with | men, | 7 who | either would | sign | 
no con- | vention, | 7 or | whom | no | treaty, | 7 and | 
no | signature | 7 could | bind ; | 7 and | who were the 
de- | termined | enemies | 7 of | human | intercourse j 



EXERCISES. 257 

7 it- | self, | 7 he de- | creed [ 7 to J make the | coun- 
try | 7 pos- | sessed by | these in- ] corrigible | 7 and 
pre- | destinated | criminals, | 7 a | memorable ex- | am- 
ple | 7 to man- | kind. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He re- | solved, 
| 7 in the | gloomy re- | cesses of a jj mind [ 7 
ca- | pacious of | such | things ; | 7 to | leave the | 
whole Car- | natic, | 7 an | ever- | lasting | monument 
of j vengeance, | 7 and to | put per- | petual | 7 deso- | 
lation, | 7 as a | barrier, | 7 be- | tween | him, | 7 and i 
those, | 7 a- | gainst | whom, | 7 the | faith | 7 which | 
holds the | moral | elements | 7 of the j world | 7 to- | 
gether, | 7 was | no pro- | tection. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He 
be- | came j 7 at | length | so | confident | 7 of his | 
force | 7 and | so col- | lected | 7 in his | might, | 7 that 
he | made | no | secret | 7 what- | ever, | of his | dread- 
ful | reso- | lution. | 7 7)7 7 j Having | terminated | 
7 his dis- | putes | 7 with | every | enemy, | 7 and j 
every | rival, | 7 who | buried their | mutual | 7 ani- | 
mosities, | 7 in their | common j interest, | 7 a- | gainst 
the | creditors of the | Nabob of | Arcot; j 7 7 J 7 he | 
drew from | every | quarter, j 7 what | ever a | savage 
fe- | rocity | 7 could | add | 7 to his | new | rudiments | 
7 in the | art of de- | struction ; | 7 and com- j pound- 
ing | all the ma- | terials of | fury, | 7 7 | havoc, j 7 and 
j deso- | lation, | 7 into | one | black | cloud ; | 7 he | 
hung for a | while | on the de- | clivities | of the j 
mountains. [ 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Whilst the | authors of 1 all | these | evils, | 7 were | 
idly and | stupidly | gazing | 7 on this | menacing | me- 
teor, | 7 which | blackened j all the ho- | rizon, | 7 it | 
suddenly | burst, | 7 and I poured | down the | whole of 
its con- | tents, | 7 upon the | plains | 7 of the Car- | 
22* 



258 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

natic. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then en- | sued a | scene of | wo ; j 
7 the | like of | which | no | eye had | seen, | 7 nor | heart 
con- | ceived, | and which | no | tongue | 7 can | ade- 
quately | tell. | 7 7 | 7 | All the | horrors of | war, | 7 be- | 
fore | known or | heard of, | 7 were | mercy, j 7 to that | 
new | havoc. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 A | storm of | uni- | versal | 
fire | blasted | every | field, | 7 con- | sumed | every | 
house, | 7 and de- | stroyed | every | temple. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 
7 The | miserable in- | habitants, | 7 7 | flying from their | 
flaming | villages, | 7 7 | 7 in | part, | 7 were | slaughter- 
ed, | 7 7 | others, | 7 with- | out re- | gard to | sex, | 7 to 
| age, | 7 to | rank, | 7 or | sacredness of | function | 7 7 | 
fathers | torn from | children, | 7 7 | husbands, | 7 from | 
wives, | 7 7 | 7 en- | veloped in a | whirlwind of | caval- 
ry, | 7 and a- | midst the | goading | spears of | drivers, 
| 7 and the | trampling | 7 of pur- | suing | horses, | 7 
were | swept into cap- | tivity, | in an un- | known I 7 
and | hostile | land. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Those who were | able 
to e- | vade this | tempest, | 7 7 | fled to the | walled | 
cities. | 7 7 | But es- | caping from | fire, | sword, | 7 
and | exile, | 7 they j fell into the | jaws of | famine. | 
7 7 ) 7 7 | 

7 For | eigh- | teen | months | 7 with- | out inter- | 
mission, | 7 7 | this de- | struction | raged | 7 from the | 
gates of Ma- | dras | 7 to the | gates of Tan- | jore, | 
7 7 | 7 and | so com- | pletely | 7 did | these | masters 
in their | art, | Hyder | Ali, | 7 and his | more fe- | ro- 
cious | son, | 7 ab- | solve themselves | 7 of their | im- 
pious | vow, | 7 that | when the | British | armies |, tra- 
versed, | 7 as they | did, | 7 the Car- | natic | 7 for | 
hundreds of | miles | 7 in | all di- | rections ; | 7 7 | 
through the | whole | line of their | march, | 7 they | 



EXERCISES. 259 

7 7 I 7 not | one | woman, | 
7 7 | 7 not | one | child, | 7 7 | 7 not | one j four foot- 
ed | beast, | 7 of | any des- | cription | 7 what- | ever. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | One | dead | uniform | silence | 7 7 j reign- 
ed over the | whole | region. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



FOURTH CHAPTER OF JOHN. 

7 When | therefore j 7 the | Lord 7 | knew j 7 how 
the Pharisees had j heard 7 7 that j Jesus | made and 
bap- | tised j more dis- I ciples than j John, | 7 though 
Jesus him- | self j 7 bap- | tised | not, | but | 7 his dis- 
ciples, j 7 he ! left Judea, j 7 and de- | parted a- | gain 
7 into | Galilee. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And he must ! needs | go 
through Sa- | maria. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then | cometh he 
7 to a | city of Sam- | aria, j 7 which is | called | Sy- 
char, | 7 7 j near to the | parcel of | ground j 7 that | Ja- 
cob | gave | 7 to his | son | Joseph. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 
Now | Jacob's | well | 7 was | there. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Je- 
sus | therefore | being | wearied with his | journey, j 
7 7 | sat | thus | 7 on die | well : | 7 7 | and it was a- | 
bout the | sixth | hour. | 7 7 | 7 7 | There | cometh a j 
woman of Sam- | aria | 7 to I draw ] water. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Jesus | saith unto her, | 7 7 | Give me to | drink, | 7 7 j 
7 for his dis- | ciples | 7 were | gone a- | way | 7 into 
the | city, | 7 to | buy | meat. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then 
saith the | woman of Sam- | aria | unto him, | 7 7 j 
How is it | 7 that | thou, | being a | Jew, | askest j drink 
of | me, | who am a | woman of Sam- | aria ? | 7 for 



260 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

the | Jews j 7 have j no | dealings | 7 with the Sam- | 
aritans. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | answered and | said 
unto her, j 7 7 | If thou | knewest the | gift of | God, | 
7 and | who it | is | 7 that | saith to thee, | give me to | 
drink ; j 7 7 | thou wouldest have | asked of | him, | 7 
and | he would have | given thee | living | water. | 7 7 j 
7 7 | 7 The woman | saith unto him, | Sir, | thou hast | 
nothing to | draw with, | 7 and the | well is | deep : | 7 7 | 
from | whence | then | hast thou* | that | living | w T ater?| 
7 7 | 7 Art | thou | greater than our | father | Jacob, j 
7 who | gave us the | well, | 7 and | drank thereof, | 7 
him- | self, | 7 and his | children, | 7 and his | cattle? | 
7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | answered and | said unto her, | 7 7 | 
whoso- | ever | drinketh of | this | water, | 7 shall | thirst 
a- | gain : | 7 7 | 7 but | whoso- | ever | drinketh of 
the | water | 7 that | I shall | give him, | 7 shall | ne- 
ver | thirst ; j 7 7 | 7 but the | water that | I shall | give 
him | 7 shall | be in him | 7 a | well of | water, | 7 7 | 
springing | up | 7 into | ever- | lasting | life. | 17 | 7 7| 
7 The woman | saith unto him, | 7 7 | Sir, | give me 
this | water, | 7 that I | thirst not, | 7 7 | neither | come 
j hither | 7 to | draw. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | saith unto her, | 
7 7 | Go, | call thy | husband, | 7 and | come | hither. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | woman | answered and | said, | 7 1 1 
have no | husband. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | said unto her, | 
7 7 | thou hast | w T ell | said, | 7 I have | no | husband : ) 
7 7 | for thou | hast | had | five | husbands ; | 7 and [ 
he whom thou | now | hast, | 7 is | not thy | husband : | 
7 7 | 7 in | that 7 | said'st thou | truly. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 
The | woman | saith unto him; — 7 7 | Sir, | 7 I per- | 
ceive | 7 that | thou art a | prophet. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Our | 
fathers | worshipped | 7 in. | this | mountain; j 7 7 | 7 



EXERCISES. 261 

and | ye | say, | that in Je- | rusalem | 7 is the ] place 
I 7 where | men | ought to | worship. | 7 7 [ 7 7 | Jesus 
| saith unto her, | 7 7 | woman, | 7 be- | lieve me, | 7 
the | hour | cometh, | 7 7 | when ye shall | neither | 7 
in | this | mountain, | 7 nor j yet in Je- | rusalem, 1 7 7 | 
worship the | Father. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Ye 7 | worship j 7 
ye | know not | what : | we | know | what | we | worship ; 
i 7 7 | 7 for sal- j vation j is of the | Jews. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 But the I hour j cometh, | 7 and | now | is, | 7 when 
the I true | worshippers ] 7 shall | worship the j Father j 
7 in I spirit j 7 and in | truth : | 7 7 | 7 for the | Father ! 
seeketh | such j 7 to | worship him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 
God I 7 is a I spirit : | 7 and | they that ! worship j him, | 
7 must j worship him | IN | spirit | 7 and in | truth. | 7 7 | 
7 7 I 7 The I woman | saitli unto him, | 7 7 j 7 7 | 7 I : 
know I 7 that Mes- | sias | cometh, | 7 which is | called | 
Christ : | 7 when | he is | come, | 7 he will | tell us all 
things. I 7 7 I 7 7 j Jesus | saith unto her, j I that speak 
unto thee | am | he. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And upon | this | came 
his dis- I ciples, | 7 and | marvelled | 7 that he | talked 
with the j woman : | 7 7 | 7 yet | no man | said, | what j 
seekest thou ? | 7 7 | 7 or | why | talkest thou j with her. j 
7 7 I 7 7 I 7 The | woman then j left her | water-pot, j 
7 and \ went her | way | into the city, | 7 7 | 7 and j saith 
to the I men, | 7 7 j come | see a j man | 7 that | told me 
all things j 7 that | ever I | did : ] 7 7 | is not j this the | 
Christ ? I 7 7 I 7 7 I Then \ they went | out of the | city | 
7 and | came unto him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In the | mean- j 
while I 7 his dis- | ciples | prayed him, j 7 7 j saying, | 
7 7 I Master, | 7 7 | eat ; | 7 7 | 7 but he | said unto 
them, I I have | meat to | eat | 7 that | ye | know not 
of. I 7 7 I 7 7 I 



262 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Therefore | said the dis- | ciples | one to an- | other, 
| 7 7 | 7 hath | any man | brought him [ aught to 1 eat ? | 
7 7 | 7 7 | Jesus | saith unto them, | 7 7 | My | meat | 
7 is to | do the | will of | him that | sent me, | 7 and to j 
finish his | work. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Say not ye, | there are | 
yet | four | months, | 7 and | then | cometh the | har- 
vest ? | 7 7 | 7 be- | hold | 7 I | say unto you, | 7 7 | 
lift up your | eyes, | 7 and | look on the | fields ; | 7 7 | 
for they are | white al- | ready | 7 to | harvest. | 7 7 | 
7 And | he that | reapeth | 7 re- | ceiveth | wages, | 7 
and | gathereth | fruit | 7 unto | life e- | ternal ; | 7 7 | 
7 that | both | he that | soweth | 7 and | he that | reap- 
eth | 7 may re- | joice to- | gether. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | 
here- | in 7 | 7 is j that | saying | true, | 7 7 | One | 
soweth, | 7 and an- | other | reapeth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | 
sent you to | reap | that 7 7 where- | on ye be- | 
stowed J no | labour. | 7 7 | Other | men | laboured, | 
7 and | ye are | entered | into their | labours. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 And | many of the Sa- | maritans | 7 of | that J 
city | 7 believed on him | for the | saying of the | wo- 
man, | 7 which | testified, | 7 he | told me | all that | 
ever I | did. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 So | when the Sa- | mari- 
tans | 7 were | come unto him, | 7 they be- [ sought him 
| that he would | tarry | with them : | 7 7 | 7 and he a- | 
bode | there | two | days. | 7 7 | 7 7 | And | many | 
more be- | lieved on him | 7 be- | cause of his | own | 
words ; | 7 and | said unto the | woman, | 7 7 | Now 
we be- | lieve, | not be- | cause of | thy | saying, | 
for we have | heard him | our- | selves, | 7 and | know, 
| 7 that | this | is | 7 in- | deed | 7 the | Christ, j 7 the | 
Saviour | 7 of the I world. I 7 7 | 7 7 I 



EXERCISES. 263 

SATAN CALLING THE FALLEN ANGELS FROM THE OBLI- 
VIOUS POOL. 

Milton. Paradise Lost. Book I. 

7 He | scarce had | ceas'd when the su- perior fiend; 
7 Was [ moving | toward the | shore, | 7 7 | 7 his | 

ponderous j shield | 
7 (E- | therial j temper, | massy, | large and | round) | 
7 Be- j hind him j cast ! | 7 the j broad cir- | cumfe- | 

rence j 
Huns: on his j shoulders, | 7 like the j moon, | 7 whose 

I orb, | 
7 Thro' | optic | glass, j 7 the | Tuscan ! artist views, | 
7 At | evening | 7 7 | 7 from the | top of Fiesole, | 
Or in Val- | darno, | 7 to des- | cry | new | lands, | 
7 7 | Rivers, or | mountains, j 7 on her | spotty | globe. 

I 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 His | spear | 7 to | equal | which 7 the tallest pine I 
Hewn on Xor- | wegian j hills | 7 7 | to be the mast 
7 Of | some | great | admiral, j were but a | wand, | 
7 He | walk'd with | 7 to sup- | port un- | easy | steps j 
Over the j burning | marl : | 7 7 | (not 7 j like 7 those 

| steps | 
7 On | Heaven's | azure !) j 7 1 | 7 7 | 7 and the | tor- 
rid | clime j 
Smote on him | sore be- | sides, | 7 7 | vaulted with | 

fire. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Nathless | 7 he | so en- | dur'd 1 till on the j beach | 
7 Of i that en- | flamed | sea | 7 he | stood, j 7 and I 

call'd 
7 His | legions, | 7 7 | angel | forms, | 7 who j lay, en- | 

tranc'd, | 



264 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Thick as au- | tumnal | leaves | 7 that | strew the | brooks | 
7 In | Vallom- | brosa, | 7 7 | where the E- | trurian | 

shades, | 
High over- | arch'd J 7 em- | bower ; | 7 7 | 7 or | scat- 

ter'd | sedge | 
7 A- | float, | when with | fierce | winds, | 7 O- | rion, | 

arm'd, | 
7 Hath | vex'd the | Red | Sea | coast, | 7 whose j 

waves o'er- | threw | 
7 Bu- | siris and his | Memphian | chivalry, | 
While with per- | fidious | hatred ! 7 7 they pur- | 

sued | 
7 The I sojourners of | Goshen, | 7 7 | 7 who be- 
held | 
7 From the I safe | shore, | 7 their | floating | carcases | 
7 And | broken | chariot | wheels : | 7 7 | so | thick be- | 

strown | 
Abject and | lost, 7 | lay | these, | 7 7 ] covering the | 

flood, | 7 7 | 
Under a- | mazement of their | hideous | change. | 7 7 \ 

7 7 | 
7 He | calFd | so | loud, | 7 that | all the [| hollow | 

deep | 
7 Of | hell | 7 re- | sounded. | 7 7 | 7 7 \ 

" Prin- | ces ! | 7 7 | Poten- I tates ! | 7 7 | 
Warriors ! | 7 7 | 7 the | flower of | heaven, | 7 7 | once | 

yours | 7 7 | now | lost, | 7 7 | 
7 If | such as- | tonishment as | this | 7 can | seize | 
7 E- | ternal | spirits : j 7 7 | or have ye | chosen | this | 

place, | 



EXERCISES. 265 

7 To J slumber | here, 7 | as in the | vales of | heaven ? | 

7 7| 77| 
Or in this | abject | posture | 7 7 | have you | sworn | 
7 To a- | dore the | Conqueror? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 who | now 

be- | holds | 
Cherub and | seraph | 7 7 | rolling | 7 in the | flood, | 
7 With | scatter'd | arms and | ensigns. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Till, 

a- | non, | 
7 His j swift pur- | suers, | 7 from | heaven | gates, | 7 

dis- | cern | 
7 The ad- | vantage, | 7 7 | 7 and de- | scending, | 7 7 | 

tread us | down | 
Thus | drooping ; | 7 7 | 7 or with | linked | thunderbolts | 
Trans- | fix us to the | bottom of this | gulph. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 7 I 7 A- I wake ! | 7 7 | 7 a- | rise ! | 7 7 | 7 or | be | 

7 for ! ever | fallen !" | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



MARCO BOZZAR1S, THE EPAMINONDAS OF MODERN 
GREECE. 

(He fell in an attack upon the Turkish camp at Lapsi, 
the site of the ancient Platcea, August, 20, 1823, and 
expired in the moment of victory. 

7 At I midnight | 7 7 | in his | guarded | tent 7 | 
7 The I Turk | 7 was | dreaming | 7 of the | hour, | 

7 When | Greece, | 7 her | knee in | suppliance | bent 7 | 
7 Should I tremble | 7 at his | power ; | 

7 7 I 7 In I dreams, | 7 through | camp and | court 7 | 

7 he I bore 7 | 

7 The I trophies | 7 of a | conqueror | 

23 



266 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

In | dreams | 7 his | song of | triumph | heard ) \ '7 7 | 

77 | 
Then 7 | wore his | monarch's | signet | ring, | 7 7 | 
Then 7 | press'd that | monarch's | throne | 7 7 | 7 a 

I King; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 As | wild his | thoughts7 ] 7 | 7and | gay of | wing 7 | 
7 As | Eden's | garden | bird. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 At | midnight | 7 in the | forest | shades, | 7 7 | 

7 Boz- | zaris | ranged his | Suliote | band, | 7 7 | 
True | 7 as the | steel | 7 of their | tried | blades, | 

Heroes | 7 in | heart and | hand. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
There had the | Persian's | thousands | stood, 7 | 
There | 7 had the | glad 7 | earth 7 | drunk their [ 
blood 7 | 

7 On | oldPla- | tsea's | day: | 
7 And | now 7 | 7 there j breathed that | haunted | air 7 | 
The | sons \ | 7 of | sires who | conquered | there, 7 | 
7 With | arm to | strike 7 | 7 and | soul to | dare, | 

7 As | quick, 7 j 7 7 | 7 as | far as | they. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 An | hour pass'd | on 7 | 7 7 | 7 the | Turk a- | 
woke : | 7 7 | 

That 7 | bright 7 | dream | 7 was his | last; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 He | woke 7 | 7 to | hear his | sentry's | shriek, | 
7 To | arms ! | 7 they | come ! | 7 the | Greek 7 | 7 the 

| Greek 7 | 
7 He | woke to j die | 7 midst | flame and | smoke, 7 | 
7 And | shout and | groan and | sabre stroke, 7 I 
7 7 | 7 And | death-shots | falling | thick and | fast, 7 | 
7 As | lightnings | 7 from the | mountain | cloud ; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | heard, 7 | 7 with | voice as | thunder | loud, 7 | 

7 Boz- | zaris | cheer his | band ; | 



EXERCISES. 



2G7 



7 7 | Strike 7 | 7 till the | last | armed | foe ex- | 

pires, 7 | 7 7 | 
Strike | 7 7 | 7 for your | altars | 7 and your | fires 7 | 

77 | 
Strike | 7 for the | green | graves of your | sires, | 7 7 j 
God 7 | 7 and your | native | land! 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

They | fought 7 | 7 like | brave | men 7 | long and | 
well, 7 | 7 7 | 

7 They j piled that | ground J 7 with | Moslem | 
slain, 7 | 
7 They j conquer'd | 7 7 | 7 but Boz- | zaris | fell, 7 | 

7 7 | Bleeding at | every | vein. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 j 
7 His | few sur- | viving | comrades | 7 7 | saw 7 | 
7 His | smile | 7 when | rang their | proud 7 | huzzah, | 

And the | red 7 | field 7 | 7 was | won; 7 | 7 7 | 
Then | saw in | death 7 | 7 his | eyelids | close 7 | 
Calmly, | as to a | night's re- | pose 7 \ 

7 Like | flowers at | set of | sun. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Come to the I bridal | chamber, | Death ! 7 | 

Come to the | mother, | 7 when she | feels 7 | 
7 For the | first 7 | time 7 | 7 her | first-born's | breath ; 

7 7 | Come when the | blessed | seals 7 | 
Which | close the | pestilence | 7 are | broke 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | crowded | cities | wail its | stroke; 7 | 7 7 | 
Come in con- | sumption's | ghastly | form, 7 | 
7 The | earthquake | shock, 7 \ 7 the | ocean | storm ; j 
Come when the | heart | beats | high and | warm, 7 | 

7 With | banquet | song, | 7 and | dance and | wine, 7 | 
7 7 | And | thou art | terrible ! | 7 the | tear, 7 j 
7 The | groan, | 7 the | knell, 7 | 7 the | pall, 7 | 7 the | 
bier, I 



268 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 And | all we | know, 7 j 7 or j dream or | fear 7 | 
7 Of | agony, | 7 are | thine. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

But to the | hero, | 7 when his | sword 7 \ 

7 Has | won the | battle | 7 for the | free, | 7 7 \ 

7 Thy | voice 7 | sounds like a | prophet's | word, 7 | 7 7 \ 

And in its | hollow | tones are | heard 7 | 

7 The | thanks of | millions | yet to | be. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 

7 Boz- | zaris | 7 7 | 7 with the j storied | brave 7 | 
Greece | nurtured | 7 in her | glory's | time, 7 | 7 7 | 

Rest thee \ 7 7 \ there is | no j prouder | grave, | 
Even in her | own 7 | proud 7 | clime. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 
7 We | tell thy | doom 7 | 7 with- | out a | sigh ; 7 | 

For thou art | Freedom's | now, 7 | 7 and | Fame's 7 | 7 7 | 

One of the | few 7 | 7 the im- | mortal | names, | 7 7 [ 
7 That I were not I born to I die. 7 I 7 7 I 7 7 I 



ADDRESS TO THE RAINBOW. 

Campbell. 

7 And I yet, 7 | fair | bow, | 7 7 | no | fabling | dreams, 7 
7 But I words of the I Most 7 | High, 7 | 

7 Have | told 7 | why | first thy | robe of | beams 7 | 
7 Was I woven | 7 in the | sky. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

When o'er the | green un- | delug'd | earth 7 | 

Heaven's | covenant | 7 7 | thou didst | shine | 7 7 | 

How I came the | world's | grey | fathers | forth 7 \ 
7 To I watch thy | sacred | sign ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

And when its | yellow | lustre | smiled 7 | 
7 O'er I mountains | yet un- j trod, 7 | 



EXERCISES. 



269 



Each | mother | held a- | loft | 7 her | child 7 [ 
7 To | bless the | bow of | God. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 1 

7 Me- | thinks, | 7 7 | 7 thy | jubilee to | keep, 7 | 

7 The | first-made | anthem | rang 7 | 
7 On ] earth | 7 de- | livered from the | deep ; 7 | 7 7 | 

And the | first 7 | poet | sang. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 I 

Nor | ever shall the | Muse's | eye 7 I 

7 Un- | raptured | greet thy | beam : | 
7 7 | Theme of pri- | meval j prophecy, j 

7 Be | still the | poet's | theme ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The j earth | 7 to | thee her | incense | yields, 7 | 

7 The j lark thy I welcome | sings, 7 | 
Where 7 | glittering in the | freshen'd | fields 7 [ 

7 The I snowy | mushroom | springs. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

How I glorious is thy | girdle | cast 7 | 
7 O'er I mountain, | tower, and | town, | 

7 Or I mirror' d in the | Ocean | vast, 7 | 

7 A I thousand | fathoms | down! | 7 7 | 7 7 J 

7 As I fresh 7 | 7 in | yon ho- | rizon | dark, | 

7 As j young thy | beauties | seem, | 
As when the | eagle | 7 from the | ark 7 | 

First j sported | 7 in thy | beam. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

For, 7 I faithful to its | sacred | page, | 

Heaven | still re- | builds | 7 thy | span, | 7 7 | 

7 Nor I lets the | type 7 | grow | pale with | age | 
7 That I first | spoke | peace | 7 to man. | 7 7 | 7 7 

23* 



270 grammar of elocution. 

othello's address to the senate. 
Shakspeare. 

Most | potent | grave, | 7 and | reverend | seigniors, | 
7 My | very | noble, | 7 and ap- | proved | good j mas- | 

ters ; | 7 7 | 
That I have | taken a- | way | 7 this | old man's | 

daughter, | 
It is | most | true ; J 7 7 | true, | 7 I have | married 

her; 
7 The | very | head and j front | 7 of my of- | 

fending | 
7 Hath | this ex- | tent, | 7 7 | no | more. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Rude | 7 am | I in | speech, | 
7 And | little | bless'd | 7 with the | set | phrase of | 

peace ; | 7 7 | 
7 For | since | these | arms of | mine | 7 had | seven 

years | pith, | 
7 Till | now, | 7 some | nine | moons | wasted, | 7 they 

have | us'd | 
7 Their | dearest j action | 7 in the | tented | field ; | 
7 And | little | 7 of this | great | world | 7 can | I | 

speak | 
More than per- | tains | 7 to | feats of | broil, | 7 and | 

battle ; | 7 7 | 
7 And, | therefore, | little | 7 shall I | grace my | 

cause, | 
7 In | speaking J 7 for my- | self : | 7 7 | yet | 7 by 

your | patience, | 
I will a | round j 7 un- 1 varnish'd | tale de- | liver, | 



EXERCISES. 271 

7 Of my | whole | course of | love : | 7 what | drugs, | 7 

what | charms, | 
7 What | conju- | ration, | 7 and what | mighty | magic, | 
7 (For | such pro- | ceeding | 7 1 am | charg'd with-| al,) | 
7 I J won his | daughter | with. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Her | father | lov'd me ; | 7 7 | oft in- | vited me ; 

| 7 7 | 
Still | question'd me | 7 the | story of my | life, | 
7 From | year to | year ; | 7 7 | 7 the | battles, | sieges, 

| fortunes, | 
Thatlhave | past. | 77 | 77 | 
7 I | run it | thro' | even from my | boyish | days, | 
7 To the | very | moment | 7 that he j bade me | 

tell it. | 
7 Where- | in, | 7 1 | spoke, | 7 of | most dis- | astrous ( 

chances; | 
7 Of | moving | accidents, | 7 by | flood and | field ; | 
7 Of | hair-breadth | 'scapes | 7 in the J imminent | 

deadly | breach | 7 7 | 
7 Of | being | taken, | 7 by the | insolent | foe, | 
7 And | sold to | slavery ; | 7 7 | of my re- | demption 

| thence ; | 7 7 | 
7 Of | battles | bravely, | hardly | fought ; | 7 7 ( 7 of | 

victories, | 
7 For | which the | conqueror | mourn'd | 7 7 | so j many 

| fell ! | 7 7 j 7 7 | 
Sometimes | 7 I | told the | story | 7 of a | siege, | 
7 Where- | in, 7 | 7 I | had to | combat | plagues and j 

famine, | 7 7 | 
Soldiers | 7 un- | paid ; | 7 7 | fearful to [ fight, [ 7 yet ( 

bold | 
7 In | dangerous | mutiny. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



212 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION, 

These | things to | hear | 
7 Would | Desde- | mona | 7 7 | seriously j 7 in- | 

cline : | 7 7 | 
7 But j still, | 7 the | house af- | fairs | 7 would | draw 

her | thence; [ 
7 Which | ever, | 7 as she | could with | haste de- | 

spatch, | 
7 She'd | come a- | gain, | and with a | greedy | ear j 
7 De- | vour up | 7 my dis- | course : | 7 7 | 7 which 

I ob- | serving, | 
Took | once | 7 a | pliant | hour ; | 7 7 | 7 and | found 

good | means | 
7 To | draw from her | 7 a | prayer of | earnest | heart, 
That I would | all | 7 my | pilgrimage | 7 di- | late, | 
7 Where- | of by | parcels | 7 she had | something 

heard, | 
7 But | not dis- | tinctively. | 7 7 | 7 7 j I | did con- 
sent, | 
7 And | often | 7 did be- | guile her | 7 of her 

tears | 7 7 | 
When I did | speak of | some dis- | tressful | stroke | 
7 That my | youth \ suffer'd. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | story 

being | done, | 
7 She | gave me, | 7 for my | pains, | 7 a | world of 

sighs ! | 7 7 | 
7 She | swore, | 7 " In | faith | 7 'twas | strange, | 7 'twas 

| passing | strange ; | 7 7 | 
7 'Twas | pitiful, | 7 'twas | wonderous | pitiful." | 7 7 | 
7 She ] wish'd | 7 she | had not | heard it ; | 7 7 | yet she 

| wish'd | 
That | heaven had | made | her j such a j man ; | 7 7 | 7 

she | thank'd me | 7 7 | 



EXERCISES. 273 

7 And | bade me, j 7 7 [ if I had a | friend that | lov'd 

her, | 
7 I | should but | teach him | how to | tell my ( story, j 
7 And j that would | woo her. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 7 On | this | 

hint | 7 I | spake. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 She | lov'd | me, | 7 for the | dangers | 7 I had | 

pass'd ; | 7 7 | 
7 And I I | lov'd | her | that she did | pity them. | 77] 
This, | only, | 7 is the | witchcraft | 7 I have | used. | 

77 | 77 | 



CHILDE HAROLD. 
CANTO IX. CLXXXVI. 

Oh ! that the | Desert | 7 were my | dwelling place, j 
7 With | one | fair | Spirit | 7 for my | minister, | 
7 7 | That I might | all for- | get the | human | race, [ 
7 And | hating | no one, | 7 7 | love | 7 but | only | her ! [ 

77 | 7 7\ 
Ye | Elements ! j 7 in | whose en- | nobling | stir j 
7 I | feel myself ex- | alted; | 7 7 | Can ye | not | 
7 Ac- | cord me | such a | being ? | 7 7 | 7 7 j Do 1 

| err j 
7 In | deeming | such | 7 in- | habit | many a j 

spot ? | 7 7 | 
Though | with them | 7 to con- | verse, | 7 can | rarely 

I be our I lot. I 7 7 I 7 7 I 



274 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

There is a | pleasure | 7 in the | pathless | woods, | 7 7 | 
There is a | rapture | 7 on the | lonely | shore, | 7 7 | 
There is so- | ciety, | 7 where | none in- | trudes, | 
7 By the | deep | sea, | 7 and | music | 7 in its | 

roar. | 7 7 | 
7 I | love not | man | 7 the | less, | 7 but | nature | 

more, | 
7 From | these our | interviews | 7 in | which I | steal | 
7 From | all I | may be, | 7 or | have been | 7 be- | 

fore, | 7 7 | 
7 To | mingle | 7 with the | universe, | and | feel | 
What I can | ne'er ex- | press, | 7 yet | cannot | all j 7 

con- | ceal. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Roll | on I 7 thou | deep | 7 and | dark | blue | ocean, | 

7 7 | roll ! I 7 7 | 7 7 ' 
Ten | thousand | fleets | 7 7 | sweep | over thee | 7 in | 

vain, | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Man | marks the | earth | 7 with | ruin, | 7 7 | his con- 

| trol | 
Stops with the | shore; | 7 7 | upon the | watery | 

plain, | 
7 The | wrecks are | all | thy | deed ; J .7 7 | nor doth 

re- | main | 
7 A | shadow of | man's | ravage, | 7 7 | save his | 

own | 7 7 | 
When for a | moment, | 7 7 | like a | drop of | rain, | 
7 He | sinks into thy | depths | 7. with | bubbling | 

groan, | 
7 With- | out a | grave, | 7 7 | 7 un- | knell'd, | 7 un- | 

coffin'd, | 7 and un- | known. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 His | steps | 7 are | not upon | thy | paths ; | thy | 

fields I 



EXERCISES. 275 

7 Are | not a | spoil | 7 for ] him ; | 7 7 | thou dost a- | 

rise | 
7 And J shake him | from thee ; | 7 7 | 7 the | vile | 

strength he | wields | 
7 For | earth's de- | struction, | 7 7 | thou dost | all des- | 

pise, | 7 7 | 
Spurning him | 7 from thy | bosom, | 7 to the | skies, | 7 7 | 
7 And | send'st him, | shivering | in thy | playful | spray | 
7 And | howling | 7 to his | Gods, | 7 7 | where | haply | 

lies | 
7 His j petty | hope, | 7 in j some j near | port | 7 or | 

bay, | 7 7 | 
Then | dashest him | 7 a- | gain | 7 to | earth, | 7 7 j there 

I let him ] lay. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | armaments | 7 which | thunderstrike | 7 the | 

walls | 
7 Of | rock-built | cities, | 7 7 | bidding | nations | 

quake, | 7 7 | 
7 And | monarchs | 7 7 | tremble | 7 in their | capitals, | 
7 7 | 7 The | oak le- | viathans, | 7 whose | huge | ribs 

| make | 
7 Their | clay ere- | ator | 7 7 | 7 the | vain | title | 

take, | 
7 Of | lord of | thee, | 7 and | arbiter of | war ! | 
These are thy | toys, | 7 7 | and as the | snowy | flake, | 
7 They | melt into thy | yeast of | waves, | 7 which | 

mar | 
7 A- | like the Ar- | mada's | pride, | or j spoils of | 

Trafal- | gar. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Thy | shores are | empires | 7 7 j chang'd in | all | 

save I thee, | 



276 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 7 | 7 As- | syria, | 7 7 | Greece, | 7 7 | Rome, | 7 7 [ 

Carthage, | 7 7 | what are | they ? | 
7 7 | Thy | waters | wasted them | 7 7 | while they 

were | free, | 
7 7 | 7 And | many a | tyrant | since : | 7 7 | 7 their | 

shores | 7 o- | bey | 
7 The | stranger, [ slave, | 7 or | savage; | 7 7 | their 

' de- | cay | 
7 Has | dried up | realms | 7 to | deserts, | 7 7 | not | 

so | thou, | 7 7 | 
Un- | changeable, | 7 7 | save to thy | wild | waves | 

play: | 7 7 | 
Time | writes | no | wrinkle | 7 on | thine | azure f 

brow; | 
7 7 | Such as ere- | ation's | dawn | 7 be- | held, | 7 7 | 

7 thou | rollest | now. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Thou, | 7 7 | glorious | mirror 7 where the AI- | 

mighty's | form | 7 7 | 
Glasses it- | self in | tempests ; | 7 7 | 7 in | all | 

time, | 7 7 | 
Calm or con- | vuls'd | 7 7 | 7 in | breeze | or | gale, | 

or | storm, | 
7 7 | Icing the | pole, | or in the | torrid | clime | 
Dark | heaving ; | 7 7 | boundless, | 7 7 | endless, | 7 7 | 

7 and sub- | lime | 7 7 | 
7 The | image of E- | ternity ! | 7 7 | 7 the | throne, | 
7 Of the In- | visible ; | 7 7 | even from | out thy | 

slime | 
7 The | monsters of the | deep j 7 are j made : | 7 7 j 

each I zone I 



EXERCISES. 277 

7 O- I beys thee ; | 7 7 | thou | goest | forth | dread ] 
fathomless, | 7 a- | lone. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

And I have | loved thee, | Ocean ! | 7 and my | 

j°y ! 

7 Of | youthful | sports | was on thy | breast | to be | 
Borne, | like thy | bubbles, | onward : | 7 from a | 

boy | 
7 I | wanton'd with thy | breakers ; | 7 7 | they to | me j 
Were a de- | light ; | 7 7 | and if the | freshening | 

sea | 
Made them a | terror, | 7 7 | 7 'twas a | pleasing [ 

fear, | 
7 For I I was | 7 as it were | 7 a | child of | thee | 
7 And I trusted to thy | billows | 7 7 | far and j 

near, | 
7 And I laid my | hand | 7 upon thy | name, J 7 as I | 

do j here. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 



LORD THURLOw's REPLY TO THE DUKE OF GRAFTON. 

The Duke had (in the House of Lords) reproached Lord 
Thurlow with his plebian extraction, and his recent 
admission to the peerage. Lord Thurlow rose from 
the woolsack , and advanced slowly to the place from 
which the Chancellor addresses the house, then fixing 
his eye upon the Duke, spoke as follows. 

7 My I Lords, 7 | 7 7 | I am a- | mazed, | 7 7 | yes 
my I Lords, 7 | I am a- | mazed at his | Grace's | 

24 



278 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

speech. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | noble | duke | cannot | 
look be- | fore him, | 7 be- | hind him, | 7 or on | either 
j side of him, | 7 with- | out 7 | seeing | some 7 | noble 
| peer, 7 | 7 who | owes his | seat 7 | 7 in this | house | 
7 to his sue- | cessful ex- | ertions, | 7 in the pro- | fes- 
sion | 7 to | which 7 | I be- | long. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Does 
he not | feel 7 | that it is as | honorable | 7 to | owe it 
to j these, | 7 as to | being the | accident | 7 of an | ac- 
cident? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 To | all these | noble | Lords, 7 | 
7 the | language of the | noble | Duke 7 | is as | appli- 
cable | and as in- | suiting j 7 as it | is to my- | self. 7 | 
7 7 | 7 7 | But I | do not | fear 7 | 7 to' | meet it | 
single | 7 and a- | lone. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | No one | vene- 
rates the | peerage | more than | I do. | 7 7 | But my j 
Lords, 7 | 7 I | must 7 | say 7 | 7 that the | peerage | 
7 so- | licited | me, | 7 7 | 7 not | I | 7 the | peerage. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 

Nay 7 | more, | 7 7 | 7 I | can and | will 7 | say, 7 | 
7 7 | that as a | peer of | parliament, | 7 7 | 7 as | 
speaker | 7 of this | right | honorable | house, | 7 7 | j 
as | keeper of the | great 7 | seal, 7 | 7 7 | 7 as | guar- 
dian | 7 of his | majesty's | conscience, | 7 7 | 7 as | 
Lord | high | Chancellor of | England, | 7 7 | nay, 7 | 
even in | that | character | 7 a- | lone, | 7 in | which the 
| noble | duke 7 J 7 would | think it an af- | front 7 | 7 
to be con- | sidered, | 7 but | which ] character | none 
can de- | ny 7 | me, 7 | 7 7 | as a | MAN, 7 | 7 I | 
am at this | moment | as res- | pectable ; | 7 7 | 7 I J 
beg 7 | leave to | add, 7 | 7 as | much re- | spected, | 
7 as the | proudest | peer 7 | 7 I | now | look | down 
upon. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



EXERCISES. 279 



TRIBUTE OF MR. BURKE TO THE ENTERPRISING SPIRIT 
OF THE NEW-ENGLAND COLONISTS. 

As to the | wealth, 7 | Mr. | Speaker, | which the 
colonies | 7 have | drawn from the | sea | 7 by their 
fisheries, | 7 7 | you had | all | that | matter | fully 
opened | 7 at your | bar. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 You | surely 
thought | those acqui- | sitions | 7 of | value, | 7 7 | for 
they | seemed | even to ex- | cite your | envy; | 7 7 
7 and | yet 7 | 7 the | spirit | 7 by | which that | enter- 
prising em- | ployment | 7 has been | exercised, | 7 7 
ought | rather, | 7 in | my o- | pinion, | 7 to have 
raised your es- | teem and | admi- | ration. | 7 7 | 7 7 
7 And | pray, Sir, | what in the | world 7 | 7 is | equal 
to it ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Pass | by the | other | parts, 7 | 7 
and | look at the | manner | 7 in | which the | people of 
| New- | England | have of | late | carried J on | 7 
the | whale | fishery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Whilst we | follow them | 7 a- | mong the | tumb- 
ling | mountains of | ice, | 7 and be- | hold them | pen- 
etrating | 7 into the | deepest | frozen re- | cesses | 7 of 
| Hudson's | Bay, | 7 and | Davis's | Straights, | 7 7 
whilst we are | looking for them | 7 be- | neath the 
arctic | circle, | 7 7 | 7 we | hear that they have | pier- 
ced | 7 into the | opposite | region of | polar | cold, 7 
7 7 | that they are | at the an- | tipodes, | 7 7 | and en- 
gaged | under the | frozen | serpent | 7 of the | south. 
7 7 | 7 7 | Falkland | Island, | 7 which | seemed | too 
re- | mote 7 | 7 and ro- | mantic an | object | 7 for the 
grasp of | national am- | bition, | 7 7 | is but a | stage and 



280 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



resting | place | 7 in the | progress | 7 of their vie- | to- 
rious | industry. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Nor is the | equi- | noctial | heat | more dis- | coura- 
ging to them, | 7 7 | than the ac- | cumulated | winter | 
7 of | both the | poles. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | know that j 
whilst | some of them | draw the | line | 7 and | strike 
the har- | poon | 7 on the | coast of | Africa, | 7 7 | 
others | run the | longitude, | 7 and pur- | sue their gi- | 
gantic | game | 7 a- | long the | coast of Bra- | zil. 7 j 
7 7 | 7 7 | No | sea | 7 but | what is | vexed by their J 
fisheries. | 7 7 | 7 No | climate | 7 that | is not | witness 
to their | toils. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | Neither the | perse- | ver- 
ance of | Holland, | 7 7 | nor the ac- | tivity of | France, 
7 | 7 7 | nor the | dexterous | 7 and | firm sa- | gacity 
of | English | enter- | prise, 7 | ever | carried | this 
most [ perilous | mode of | hardy | industry | 7 to the 
ex- | tent | 7 to | which it has been | pushed | 7 by this 
| recent | people ; | 7 7 | 7 a j people j who are | still, | 
as it were, | 7 7 | but in the | gristle, | 7 7 | 7 and | not 
yet | hardened | into the | bone of | manhood. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 

When I eon- | template | these | things, 7 | 7 7 | when 
I | know | that the | colonies | 7 in | general | owe | lit- 
tle or | nothing | 7 to | any | care of | ours, 7 | and that 
they | are not | squeezed | into this | happy | form | by 
the con- | straints of a | watchful | 7 and sus- | picious | 
government, | 7 7 | but that | through a | wise and | sal- 
utary | neglect | 7 a | generous | nature | has been j 
suffered | 7 to | take her | own | way to per- | fection ; | 
7 7 | when I re- | fleet upon | these ef- | fects, | 7 7 | 
when I | see 7 | 7 how | profitable | they have | been 
to us, j 7 I | feel | all the | pride of | power | sink, | 7 ? 



EXERCISES. 281 

| 7 and | all pre- | sumption | 7 in the | wisdom of | hu- 
man con- | trivances | melt, | 7 and | die a- | way | 7 
with- | in me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 My | rigor re- | lents. 7 j 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | pardon | something | 7 to the | spirit of 
| liberty. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



APOSTROPHE TO THE QUEEN OF FRANCE. 

Burke. 

7 It is | now, 7 | sixteen or | seventeen | years 7 | since 
I | saw the | Queen of | France, 7 | then the | Dauphi- 
ness, j 7 at Ver- | sailles : 7 | 7 7 | 7 and | surely | never 
| lighted on this | orb, 7 | 7 which she | hardly | seemed 
to | touch, 7 | 7 a | more de- | lightful | vision. | 7 7 | 77 | 
7 1 1 saw her | just a- | bove the ho- | rizon, | 7 7 | deco- 
rating and | cheering | 7 the | elevated | sphere | 7 she | 
just be- | gan to | move in : | 7 7 glittering, | 7 like the ( 
morning | star ; | 7 7 | full of | life, 7 | 7 and | splendor, | 
7 and | joy. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Oh ! | what a | revo- | lution ! | 7 7 | 7 and | what a | 
heart 7 | must I j have, | 7 to | contemplate | 7 with- | out 
e- | motion, | that | ele- | vation | 7 and | that 7 | fall. 7 
| 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Little | did I | dream | 7 that | when she j added | 
titles of j vene- | ration | 7to | those of en- J thusi- | as- 
tic, | distant, | 7 re- | spectful ( love, 7 j 7 7 J that she 
should | ever be o- j bliged | 7 to J carry J 7 the | sharp 
| antidote a- j gainst dis- | grace 7 | 7 con- | cealed in | 
that | bosom ; j 7 7 | 7 7 j little did I | dream 7 j that I 

24* 



282 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

should have | lived to J see 7 | such dis- j asters j fallen 
up- | on her j 7 in a J nation of j gallant j men ; 7 j 7 7 
| 7 7 j 7 in a j nation of j men of J honor J 7 and of | 
cava- | liers. | 7 7 j 7 7 j 7 I j thought j ten j thousand 
j swords 7 | must have J leaped from their | scabbards, 
j 7 7 j 7 to a- | venge j even a { look 7 j 7 that | threat- 
ened | her with | insult, j 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But the j age of 
| chivalry | 7 is | gone. | 7 7 | That of | sophisters, | 7 
e- | conomists and | calculators, | 7 has sue- | ceeded ; | 
7 7 | 7 and the | glory of | Europe | 7 is ex- | tinguish- 
ed for | ever. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Never | 7 7 | never | more, 
7 | shall we be- | hold 7 | that | generous | loyalty | 7 
to | rank and | sex, 7 | 7 7 | 7 that | proud sub- | mis- 
sion, | 7 7 | 7 that | dignified o- | bedience, | 7 7 | 
7 that sub- | ordi- j nation of the | heart, 7 | 7 7 | 7 
which | kept a- | live, 7 | even in | servitude it- j self, 
7 | 7 the | spirit | 7 of an ex- | alted | freedom. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 The | unbought | grace of | life, 7 | 7 the | cheap 
de- | fence of j nations, | 7 7 ( 7 the | nurse of | manly 
| sentiment | 7 and he- | roic | enterprize | 7 is | gone ! 
7 | 7 7 | 7 It is | gone, 7 | that | sensi- | bility of | prin- 
ciple, | 7 7 | 7 that | chastity of | honor, | 7 7 | 7 which 
J felt a | stain 7 | like a | wound, 7 | 7 7 | which in- | 
spired | courage | 7 whilst it | mitigated fe- | rocity, | 7 
7 I which en- | nobled | 7 what- | ever it | touched ; | 
7 7 | 7 and | under | which 7 j vice it- | self | lost | 
half its | evil, | 7 by | losing | all its } grossness. | 7 7 | 
77 [ 



EXERCISES. 283 

ELEGY IN A COUNTRY CHURCH YARD. 

Gray. 

Reprinted according to the original copy. 

7 The | curfew | tolls, | 7 7 | 7 the | knell of | parting | 

day, 7 | 
7 The | lowing | herd | wind | slowly | 7 o'er the | 

lea; 7 | 77 | 
7 The | ploughman | homeward | plods his j weary | 

way, 7 | 
7 7 | 7 And | leaves the | world 7 | 7 to | darkness | 7 

and to | me. 7 | 77 | 7 7 | 

Now | fades the | glimmering [ landscape | 7 on the | 

sight, 7 \ 
7 7 | 7 And | all the | air | 7 a | solemn | stillness | 

holds 7 | 
Save | 7 where the | beetle | wheels his | droning | 

flight 7 | 
7 And | drowsy | tinklings | lull the | distant | folds. 7 j 

7 7 | 7 7 | 

Save that | 7 from | yonder | ivy | mantled | tower | 
7 The | moping | owl 7 | does to the | moon com- | 

plain | 
7 Of | such as | wandering | near her | secret | bower j 
7 Mo- | lest her | ancient | 7 7 | solitary | reign. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

7 Be- | neath | those | rugged | elms, | 7 that | yew tree's 

I shade 7 | 
7 Where | heaves the | turf in | many a | mouldering | 

heap 7 | 
Each in his j narrow | eell 7 | 7 for J ever | laid 7 j 



284 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 The ] rude | fore- | fathers of die | hamlet | sleep. 7 | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | breezy | call of | incense | breathing | morn, 7 j 
7 The | swallow | twittering | 7 from the straw-built | 

shed, 7 | 
7 The | cock's shrill | clarion, 1 7 or the | echoing j horn 7 | 
7 No | more shall | rouse them | 7 from their | lowly | 

bed. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 For | them 7 | no | more 7 | 7 the | blazing | hearth 

shall | burn 7 | 
7 Nor | busy | housewife | ply her | evening | care ; 7 | 
7 7 | No | children | run | 7 to j lisp their | sire's re- | 

turn 7 | 
7 7 | 7 Or | climb his | knees, 7 | 7 the | envy'd | kiss 

to | share. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

6ft did the | harvest | 7 to their | sickle | yield, 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Their | furrow | oft | 7 the | stubborn | glebe | 7 has 

| broke ; | 
7 7 | How | jocund | 7 did they | drive their | team a- 1 

field, 7 | 7 7 | 
How | bowed the | woods 7 | 7 7 | 7 be- | neath their | 

sturdy | stroke. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Let not Am- | bition | 7 7 | mock their | useful | toil, 7 ] 
7 Their | homely | joys, 7 | 7 and | destiny ob- | scure, 7 | 
7 Nor | Grandeur | hear 7 | with a dis- | dainful | 

smile 7 | 
7 The | short and | simple | annals | 7 of the | poor. | 

77 | 77 | 

7 The | boast of | heraldry, | 7 the | pomp of J power, | 



EXERCISES. 28& 

7 And | all that | beauty, | 7 7 | all that j wealth, 7 | 

e'er | gave, | 
7 A- | wait, a- | like, 7 | 7 the in- | evitable | hour ; 7 | 
7 7 | 7 The | paths of | glory | 7 7 | lead 7 | but to the. 

grave. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Nor | you, | 7 ye j Proud ! 7 | 7 im- | pute to | these 

the | fault, 7 | 
7 If | memory | 7 o'er their | tomb 7 | no | trophies | 

raise 7 | 7 7 | 
Where thro' the | long-drawn | aisle 7 | 7 and | fretted 

| vault, 7 | 
7 The | pealing | anthem ] swells the | note of | praise. 7 | 

Can | storied | urn, 7 | 7 or | animated | bust 7 | 
Back to its | mansion, | 7 7 | call the | fleeted | breath ? 7 | 
7 7 | 7 Can | honor's | voice [ 7 pro- | voke the | silent 

| dust? 7 | 
7 Or | flattery | soothe 7 | 7 the | dull | cold | ear of | 

death. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Per- | haps 7 | 7 in | this neg- | lected j spot, 7 | 7 is 

| laid, 7 | 
Some | heart | once | pregnant | 7 with ce- | lestial I 

fire ; | 7 7 | 
Hands 7 | 7 that the | rod of | empire | 7 might have | 

sway'd, 7 | 
7 Or | waked to | ecstacy | 7 the | living j lyre. | 7 7 \ 7 7 | 

7 But | knowledge | 7 to | their | eyes, 7 | 7 her j am- 
ple | page, | 

Rich with the | spoils of | Time, 7 | 7 did j ne'er un- [ 
roll ; 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Chill j Penury j 7 re- | press'd their | noble | rage, 7 j 



286 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 And [ froze the | genial | current | 7 of the | soul. | 

7 7|7 7| 

Full 7 | many a | gem of | purest | ray se- | rene, 7 | 
7 The | dark | 7 un- | fathom'd | caves of | ocean | 

bear ; 7 | 
Full | many a | flower | 7 is | born | 7 to | blush un- | 

seen, 7 | 
7 And | waste its | sweetness | 7 on the | desert | air. 7 | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 

Some | village | Hampden, | 7 that with | dauntless | 

breast, 7 | 
7 The | little | tyrant of his | fields | 7 with- | stood ; 7 | 
Some | mute in- | glorious | Milton | here may | rest, 7 | 
Some | Cromwell, | 7 7 | guiltless of his | country's | 

blood. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The ap- | plause of | listening | senates | 7 to com- | 

mand ; 7 | 
7 7 The | threats of | pain and | ruin | 7 to des- | 

pise ; 7 | 7 7 | 
7 To | scatter | plenty | 7 o'er a | smiling | land, 7 [ 
7 And | read their | history | 7 in a | nation's | eyes ; 7 | 

Their | lot for- | bade : 7 | 7 nor | circum- | scribed a- | 

lone 7 | 
7 Their | growing | virtues, | 7 but their | crimes con- | 

fined ; 7 | 
7 For- | bade to | wade thro' | slaughter | 7 to a | throne, 7 | 
7 And | shut the | gates of | mercy | 7 on man- | kind ; 7 | 

7 The | struggling | pangs of | conscious | Truth to | 

hide ; 7 | 
7 To | quench the | blushes | 7 of in- | genuous | shame ; 



'? 



EXERCISES. 287 

7 Or j heap the | shrine of | luxury | 7 and | pride 7 | 
7 With | incense | 7 7 | kindled at the | Muse's | flame. | 

77 | 7 7 | 

7 Yet | even | these 7 [ bones 7 | 7 from | insult | 7 to 

pro- | tect, 7 | 
7 Some | frail me- | morial | still, e- | rected | nigh, 7 | 
7 With | un- | couth 7 | rhymes, 7 | 7 and | shapeless | 

sculpture j deck'd, 7 | 
7 Im- | plores the | passing | tribute | 7 of a | sigh. 7 [ 

77 | 7 7 | 

7 Their | names, 7 | 7 their | years, 7 | spelt by the un- | 

letter'd | Muse, | 7 7 | 
7 The | place of | fame and | elegy | 7 sup- | ply : 7 ] 
7 7 | 7 And | many a | holy | text 7 | 7 a- | round she 

strews 7 | 
7 That | teach the | rustic | moralist | 7 to | die. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 For | who 7 | 7 to | dumb for- | getfulness a | prey, 7 | 
7 This | pleasing | anxious | being | e'er re- | signed, 7 | 
Left the | warm | precincts | 7 of the | cheerful | day, 7 | 
7 7 | 7 Nor | cast 7 | one | longing | lingering | look 
be- | hind. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

On | some | fond | breast 7 | 7 the | parting | soul re- | 

lies, 7 | 
7 7 | Some | pious | drops 7 | 7 the | closing | eye re- 1 

quires, 7 | 
7 7 j Even from the | tomb, 7 | 7 the | voice of ( Na~ 

ture I cries ; 7 | 7 7 | 
Even in our | ashes, | 7 7 j live their | wonted | fires. 7 | 

77 | 17\ 



288 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 For| thee 7 | 7 who | mindful | 7 of the un~ | honor'd | 

dead ; 7 | 
Dost in these | lines, 7 | 7 their | artless | tale re- | late, 7 1 
7 By | chance and | lonely | contem- j plation | led, 7 | 
7 To | wander | 7 in the I gloomy | walks of | fate ; 7 | 

Hark ! 7 | 7 7 | how the | sacred | calm | 7 that | 

breathes a- | round, 7 | 
Bids ] every | fierce tu- | multuous | passion | cease ; 7 | 
7 7 I 7 In | still | small | accents | whispering | 7 from 

the | ground, | 
7 A | grateful | earnest | 7 of e- 1 ternal | peace. | 7 7 | 7 7 J 

7 No | more with | Nature and thy- [ self 7 1 7 at | strife, 7 | 
7 Give | anxious | cares and | endless | wishes | room, 7 | 
But thro' the | cool se- | quester'd | vale of | life, 7 | 
7 Pur- | sue the | noiseless | tenor | 7 of thy | doom. 

| 77 | 7 7 | 



ON HAPPINESS OF TEMPER. 

Goldsmith. 

Writers | 7 of | every | age | 7 have en- | deavored to 
| show I 7 that | pleasure | 7 is in | us, | 7 and | not in 
the | objects | 7 7 | offered | 7 for our a- | musement. | 
7 7 | 7 7 j If the [ soul be | happily dis- | posed, | 7 7 | 
every thing j 7 be- | comes | capable | 7 of af- | fording 
j enter- | tainment; | 7 7 j 7 and dis- | tress | 7 will | 
almost | want a | name. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Every oc- | cur- 
rence | 7 7 | passes in re- | view | 7 like the | figures | 7 
of a pro- | cession; | 7 7 | some | 7 may be | awkward, [ 



EXERCISES. 289 

7 7 I others j ill | dressed ; | 7 but | none but a | fool | 
7 is for | this, | 7 en- | raged with the | master of the j 
ceremonies. | 7 7 ' [ 7 7 | 

7 I re- | member | 7 to have | once j seen a | slave, | 
7 in a | fortiS- | cation | 7 in | Flanders, | 7 who ap- I 
peared | no way | touched | 7 with his | situ- j ation. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He was | maimed, | 7 de- | formed | 7 
and | chained : | 7 7 | 7 o- | bliged to | toil | 7 from the 
ap- | pearance of | day | 7 till | nightfall, | 7 7 | 7 and 
con- | demned to | this | 7 for | life ; J 7 7 | yet with | 
all | these | circumstances | 7 of ap- | parent | wretch- 
edness, j 7 he j sung, I 7 7 | would have j danced, | 7 7 
| but that he | wanted a | leg, | 7 and ap- j peared the | 
merriest, | happiest | man | 7 of | all the | garrison. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 What a | practical | 7 phi- | losopher | 7 was | here, 
7 7 j 7 a | happy consti- | tution | 7 sup- | plied phi- | 
losophy ; | 7 and though | seemingly | destitute of | wis- 
dom, | 7 he was | really j wise. | 7 7 | 7 7 | No | read- 
ing | 7 or | study | 7 had con- | tributed | 7 to disen- j 
chant | 7 the j fairy | land | 7 a- | round him. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | Every thing | furnished him | 7 with an | oppor- j 
tunitv of I mirth. I 7 7 I 7 and though I some I thought 
him, | 7 from his | insensi- | bility, | 7 a | fool, j 7 he 
was | such an j ideot | 7 as phi- | losophers | 7 should | 
wish to j imitate : | 7 7 J 7 for j all phi- | losophy | 7 is j 
only j forcing the I trade of | happiness, | 7 when | Na- 
tute | seems to de- j ny the | means. f 7 7 j 7 7 j 

They, | 7 who | like our ] slave, | 7 can place them- 
selves | 7 on | that | side of the | world 7 'in j which | 
every thing | 7 ap- | pears in a | pleasing | light, | 7 will 
| find | something | 7 in | every oc- | currence [ 7 to 

25 



290 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

ex- | cite their | good | honor. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | 
most ca- | lamitous e- | vents, | 7 7 | either to them- | 
selves | 7 or | others, | 7 can | bring | no | new af- | 
fliction ; | 7 7 | 7 the | whole | world | T is to | them, | 
7 a | theatre, | 7 on which | comedies | only | 7 are | 
acted. | 7 7 | 7 7 | All the | bustle of | heroism, | 7 
or the | rants of am- | bition, | 7 7 | serve | only to | 
heighten | 7 the ab- | surdity | 7 of the | scene, | 7 
and | make the | humor | 7 more | poignant. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 They | feel, | Tin | short, | T as | little | an- 
guish | 7 at their | own dis- | tress, | 7 or the com- | 
plaints of others, | 7 as the | under- | taker, | 7 
though | dressed in | black, | feels | sorrow | 7 at a | 
funeral. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Of | all the | men | 7 I | ever | read of, | 7 the 
| famous | Cardinal de | Retz | 7 pos- | sessed this | 
happiness of | temper | 7 in the | highest de- j gree. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | As he was a | man of | gallantry, | 7 and 
des- | pised | 7 all that | wore the pe- | dantic ap- | 
pearance | 7 of phi- | losophy, 7 where- | ever | 
pleasure | 7 was to be | sold | he w r as | generally | 
foremost | 7 to | raise the | auction. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Be- 
ing a | uni- | versal | 7 ad- | mirer of the | fair | sex, 
| 7 7 | when he | found | one J lady j cruel, | 7 he 
| generally | fell in | love | 7 with an- | other, | 7 from 
| whom he ex- | pected | 7 a more | favourable | 7 re- 
| ception. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 If | she, | too, | 7 re- j jec- 
ted his ad- | dresses, | 7 7 | 7 he | never | thought of 
re- | tiring into | deserts, | 7 or | pining in | hopeless 
dis- | tress ; | 7 7 | he per- | suaded himself, | 7 that 
in- | stead of | loving the | lady, j 7 he had | only j 



EXERCISES. 291 

fancied | 7 that he had | loved her ; | 7 7 | 7 and | 
$o, | all was | well again. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 When | fortune | wore her | angriest | look, | 7 7 | 
and | he at | last | fell into the | power | 7 of his most | 
deadly | enemy, | 7 7 | Cardinal | Maza- | rine, | 
7 7 | (being con- | fined a | close | prisoner, | 7 in 
the | castle of | Valen- | ciennes,) | 7 he | never at- | 
tempted | 7 to sup- | port his dis- | tress | 7 by | wis- 
dom | 7 or phi- | losophy; | 7 7 | for he pre- | tend- 
ed to | neither. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | only | laughed | 
7 at him- | self | 7 and his | persecutor ; | 7 7 j 7 and | 
seemed | infinitely | pleased | 7 at his j new situ- | 
ation. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In | this | mansion of dis- | tress, | 
7 7 | though se- | eluded from his | friends, | 7 7 | 7 
though de- | nied | all the a- | musements, | 7 and | 
even the con- | veniences of | life, | 7 he | still re- | 
tained his | good | humour: | 7 ' 1 | laughed at | all the | 
little | spite of his | enemies : | 7 7 | 7 and | carried 
the | jest | so | far | as to be re- | venged, | 7 by | 
WTiting the | life | 7 of his | goaler. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

All that the | wisdom of the | proud j 7 can | teach, 
| is to be | stubborn | 7 or | sullen, | under mis- | for- 
tunes. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | Cardinal's ex- | ample | 7 
will in- | struct us to be | merry, | 7 in | circumstances | 
7 of the | highest af- | fliction. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 It | mat- 
ters not | whether our | good j humor ] 7 be | con- 
strued | 7 by | others, | 7 into | insensi- | bility ; | 7 or 
| even | idiotism : | 7 7 | 7 it is | happiness | 7 to our- I 
selves; | 7 7 | 7 and | none but a | fool, | 7 would | 
measure his | satis- | faction | 7 by | what the | world | 
thinks of it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | happiest | silly | fellow | 7 I | ever | knew, | 



292 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

was of the | number of those | good natured | creatures 
] that are | said to | do no | harm | 7 to | any but them- 
| selves. | 7 7 | 7 T | 7 When- | ever he | fell into | any 
| misery, | 7 7 | 7 he | usually | called it | 7 7 | » See- 
ing | life." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 If his | head was | broke 
by a | chairman, | 7 or his | pocket | picked by a | shar- 
per, | 7 he | comforted himself | 7 by | imitating j 7 the 
Hi- | bernian | dialect | 7 of the | one, | or the more | 
fashionable | cant | 7 of the | other. | 7 7 | 7 7 | No- 
thing [ came a- | miss to him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 His | inat- | tention to | money matters | 7 in- | 
censed his | father | 7 to I such a de- | gree, | 7 that | 
all inter- | cession of | friends, | 7 in his | favor, | T 
was | fruitless. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

7 The | old | gentleman | was on his | death bed. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | whole | family, | 7 and | Dick | 7 a- 
| mong the | number, | 7 7 | gathered a- | round him. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 " I | leave my | second | son | Andrew," j 
said the ex- | piring | miser, | 7 " my | whole es- | tate ; | 
7 7 | 7 and de- | sire him | 7 to be | frugal." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Andrew, | 7 in a | sorrowful | tone, | 7 (as is | usual ] 
7 on | those oc- j casions,) | 7 7 | prayed | Heaven | 7 to 
pro- | long his | life and | health | 7 to en- | joy it him- | 
self! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 " 1 1 recom- | mend | Simon, I 7 my | third | son, | 7 to 
the | care of his | elder | brother ; | 7 7 | 7 and | leave 
him | 7 be- | side, | four | thousand | pounds." 

" Ah ! | father, " | 7 cried | Simon, | 7 (in | great af- | 
fliction, | 7 to be | sure, ) | 7 " may | Heaven | give you | 
life and | health | 7 to en- | joy it your- | self!" | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 

7 At | last | turning to | poor | Dick, | 7 7 | " as for | 



EXERCISES. 



293 



you, | you have | always | 7 been a | sad | dog ; | 7 7 | 
you'll | never | come to | good ; | 7 7 | you'll | never be | 
rich ; | 7 7 | 7 I | leave | you | 7 a | shilling, | 7 to | buy 
a | halter." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

" Ah ! | father," | 7 cries ] Dick, | 7 without | any e- | 
motion, | 7 " may | Heaven | give you | life and | health | 
7 to en- | joy it your- | self!" | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



A SUMMER EVENING'S MEDITATION. 

Mrs. Barbauld. 

7 Tis | past ; 7 | 7 the | sultry | tyrant of the | 

south 7 | 
7 Has | spent his | short-lived | rage. 7 | 7 7 | 7 More j 

grateful | hours 
Move | silent | on. 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | skies no | more re- | 

pel 7 | 
7 The | dazzled | sight ; 7 | 7 7 | But with | mild | maiden | 

beams 7 | 
7 Of | temper'd | light, 7 | 7 in- | vite the | cherish'd | 

eye 7 | 
7 To | wander o'er their | sphere ; 7 | where 7 | hung a- | 

loft, 7 | 
Dian's | bright | crescent, | like a | silver | bow 7 | 
New | strung in | heaven, | lifts | high | 7 its | beamy | 

horns, 7 | 
7 Im- | patient for the | night, 7 | 7 and | seems to J 

push 7 I 

25* 



294 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 Her | brother | down the | sky. 7 | 7 7 | Fair | Venus j 

shines 7 | 
Even in the | eye of | day ; 7 j 7 with j sweetest | 

beam 7 j 
7 Pro- | pitious | shines, and | shakes a j trembling | 

flood 7 | 
7 Of j soften' d { radience | 7 from her j.dewy | locks. J 

7 7 j 7 7 | 
7 The | shadows j spread a } pace'; 7 j 7 7 j 7 while | 

meeken'd | eve, 7 | 
7 Her | cheek yet | warm with | blushes, | slow re- | 

tires | 
Through the Hes- | perian | gardens of the | west, 7 | 
7 And | shuts the | gates of | day. 7 | 7 7 | 7 'Tis | 

now the | hour 7 | 
7 When | contem- | plation | 7 (from her | sunless | 

haunts, | 
7 The | cool j damp | grotto, | 7 7 | 7 or the j lonely | 

depth 7 | 
7 Of | unpierced | woods, 7 | where, 7 | wrapt in | si- 
lent | shade, | 7 7 | 
7 She | mused a- | way the | gaudy | hours of 

noon, 7 | 
7 And | fed on | thoughts | un- | ripen'd by the | 

sun,) 7 | 
Moves | forward ; | 7 and with | radiant | finger | 

points 7 | 
7 To | yon | blue | concave, | swell'd by | breath di- | 

vine : | 7 7 | 
Where, 7 | one by | one, the | living | eyes of | 

heaven I 



EXERCISES. 295 

7 A- I wake, | 7 7 | quick | kindling | 7 o'er the | face of | 

ether | 
One | boundless | blaze ; | 7 7 | ten | thousand | tremb- 

ling | fires, 7 | 
7 And | dancing | lustres, | where the un- | steady | 

eye, 7 ! 
Restless | 7 and | dazzled, | wanders | uncon- | fined 7 | 
7 O'er | all this | field of | glories : | spacious | field, 7 \ 
7 And | worthy of the | Master ! | he | 7 whose ( 

hand, 7 | 
7 With | hiero- | glyphics | 7 7 | elder than the | Nile, 7 | 
7 In- | scribed the | mystic | tablet, | hung on | high 7 | 
7 To | public | gaze ; | 7 and | said, 7 | 7 A- | dore O | 

man, 7 | 
7 The | finger of thy | God ! 7 | 7 7 | 7 From | what | 

pure | wells | 
7 Of | milky | light, 7 | What | soft | 7 o'er- | flowing 

| urn, 7 | 
7 Are | all these | lamps | so | fill'd ? 7 | these | friendly 

| lamps, 7 | 
7 For- J ever | streaming | o'er the | azure | deep, | 
7 To | point our | path, 7 | 7 and | light us to our | 

home. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 How | soft they | slide a- | long their | lucid | 

spheres ! | 
7 And | silent as the | foot of | time, 7 | 7 ful- | fil 7 j 
7 Their | destin'd | courses. | 7 7 | Nature's | self ] 7 

is | hush'd | 
And 7 | (but a | scatter'd | leaf which | rustles | 

through 7 j 
7 The | thick-wove | foliage,) | not a | sound | is | 

heard 7 I 



£96 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 To | break the | midnight | air : 7 | though the raised 

| ear, 7 | 
7 In- | tensely | listening, | drinks in | every j breath. 7 | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 
How | deep the | silence, | yet how | loud the | praise ! 

| 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 But | are they | silent | all ? 7 | 7 or | is there not | 
7 A | tongue in | every | star 7 | 7 that | talks with 

man, 7 j 
7 And | woos him to be | wise ? 7 | 7 nor | woos in | vain : 

7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 This | dead of | midnight j 7 is the | noon of | 

thought, 7 | 
7 And j wisdom | mounts her | zenith | 7 with the j 

stars. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 At | this | still | hour | 7 the | self-col- | lected | 

soul 7 | 
Turns | inward, | 7 and be- | holds a | stranger | 

there 7 | 
7 Of | high de- | scent, 7 | 7 and | more than | mortal ] 

rank ; | 7 7 | 
7 An | embryo | God ; 7 | 7 a | spark of | fire di- | 

vine, 7 | 
Which must | burn | on for | ages, | 7 when the | 

sun 7 | 
(Fair | transitory | creature of a | day ?) 7 | 
7 Has | closed his | wonted j journey | through the | 

east. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Ye | citadels of | light, 7 | 7 and | seats of | bliss ! 7 | 
7 Per- | haps my | future | home, 7 | 7 from | whence ( 7 

the | soul, 7 | 



EXERCISES. 297 

Re- | volving | periods | past, | 7 may | oft | look j 

back, 7 | 
With | recol- | lected | tenderness, ] 7 on | all | 
The | various | busy | scenes she | left be- [ low, 7 | 
7 Its | deep-laid | projects, | 7 and its | strange e- | 

vents, 7 | 
As on some | fond and j doting | tale | 7 that sooth 5 d | 
7 Her | infant | hours. 7 | 7 7 | O | be it | lawful | now 7| 
7 To | tread the | hallow' d | circle j 7 of your | courts, 7 | 
And | 7 (with | mute | wonder | and de- | lighted | 

awe,) 7 j 
7 Ap- | proach your | burning j confines ! | Seized in | 

thought, | 
7 On | fancy's j wild and | roving | wing I | sail, 7 | 
7 From the | green | borders | 7 of the | peopled j 

earth, 7 | 
7 And the | pale | moon 7 | 7 her | duteous | fair at- | 

tendant; J 7 7 | 
7 From | solitary | Mars ; | 7 from the | vast | orb | 
7 Of | Jupiter, | whose | huge gi- | gantic ] bulk 7 | 
Dances in | ether | like the | lightest | leaf; 7 | 7 7 \ 
7 To the | dim | verge, | 7 the | suburbs of the | sys- 
tem, | 
7 Where | cheerless Saturn, | midst his | watery | 

moons, 7 | 
Girt with a | lurid | zone, 7 | 7 in | gloomy | pomp, 7 | 
Sits like an | exiled | monarch. | 7 7 | Fearless | thence 7 j 
7 I | launch | into the | trackless | deeps of | space, 7 | 
Where 7 | burning | round, 7 | ten | thousand | suns | 

7 ap- | pear 7 | 
7 Of | elder ! beam | 7 which | ask j no | leave to | shine. | 
7 Of | our ter- ! restrial | star 7 | 7 7 | nor ! borrow | light | 



298 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 From the | proud j regent | 7 of | our scanty | 

day : 7 | 7 7 | 
7 7 1 Sons of the [ morning, | first born | 7 of ere- 1 ation, | 
7 And | only | less than | He who | marks their | track, 7 | 
7 And j guides their | fiery | wheels. | 7 7 | Here | must 

I | stop, 7 [ 
Or is there | ought be- | yond ? 7 | 7 What| hand un- | 

seen 7 | 
7 Im- | pels me | onward, | 7 through the | glowing | 

orbs 7 | 
7 Of | habitable | nature | 7 7 j far re- | mote, 7 | 
7 To the | dread | confines | 7 of e- | ternal | night, 7 | 
7 To | solitudes | 7 of | vast un- | peopled | space, 7 | 
7 The | deserts of ere- | ation, | wide | 7 and | wild, 7 | 
7 Where | embryo | systems | 7 and un- | kindled 

suns 7 | 
Sleep in the | womb of | chaos ? | 7 7 | Fancy | droops, | 
7 And | Thought | 7 as- | tonished | stops her | bold 

ca- | reer. 7 | 7 7 | 
7 But | oh thou | mighty | Mind ! | 7 7 | 7 whose | pow- 
erful | word 7 | 
Said 7 | Thus let | all things | be | 7 and | thus they | 

were, | 7 7 | 
Where shall I | seek thy | presence ? | 7 7 | how un- 

| blamed | 
7 In- | voke thy | dread per- | fection. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Have the broad | eyelids of the morn be- | held 

thee ?| 7 7 | 
Or does the | beamy | shoulder of O- | rion | 
7 Sup- | port thy | throne ? | 7 7 | O | look with | pity 

| down 7 | 
7 On | erring | guilty | Man ! 7 | not in thy | names 7 | 



EXERCTSES. 299 

7 Of | terror | clad j 7 not with those | thunders | 
arm'd 7 | 

7 That | conscious | Sinai | felt when | fear ap- [ 
pall'd 7 | 

7 The j scatter'd | tribes : 7 | thou hast a | gentler | 
voice, 7 | 

7 That | whispers | comfort | 7 to the | swelling | heart, 7 | 

7 A- | bash'd 7 | 7 yet | longing to be- | hold her | Ma- 
ker. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 But | now | 7 my | soul 7 J un- | used to | stretch 

her | powers 7 | 
7 In j flight so | daring | drops her | weary | wing, 7 j 
7 And | seeks a- j gain the | known ac- | custom'd | 

spot, 7 | 
Drest up with | sun and | shade 7 | 7 and | lawns, and | 

streams ; 7 | 
7 A | mansion | fair and | spacious | 7 for its | guest 7 | 
7 And | full re- | plete wdth | wonders. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Let 

me | here | 
7 Con- | tent and | grateful | wait the ap- | pointed | 

time | 
7 And | ripen for the j skies 7 | 7 the J hour will j come | 
7 When j all these | splendors, | bursting | on my j 

sight 7 | 
7 Shall | stand un- | veil'd, | and to my | ravish'd | 

sense 7 j 
7 Un- | lock the | glories j of the j world un- j known. 7 

I 7 7 I 7 7 | 



300 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



SPEECH OF MR. PLUNKET, 

On the competency of the Irish Parliament to pass the 
Measure of Union. 

Sir, 7 | I in the | mo&c ex- | press 7 | terms 7 | 7 de- 
| ny the | competency | 7 of | parliament | 7 to | do this | 
act. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | warn you | 7 7 | do not | dare | 
7 to | lay your | hand | 7 on the | consti- | tution. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 I | tell you, | 7 that | if 7 | circumstanced as you 
| are 7 | 7 you | pass this | act, 7 [ it will be a j nullity, | 7 
and that | no | man in | Ireland | 7 will be | bound to o- | 
bey it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | make the as- | sertion | 7 de- | 
liberately, | 7 7 | 7 I re- | peat it, | 7 and | call on | any | 
man who | hears me, | 7 to | take | down my t words ; 7 | 
7 7 | 7 you | have not been e- | lected for j this 7 | pur- 
pose, | 7 7 | you are ap- | pointed | 7 to | make | laws, 7 
| not 7 | legis- j latures ; | 7 7 | you are ap- | pointed to 
| exercise | 7 the | functions of | legis- | lators, | 7 and | 
not to trans- | fer them ; j 7 7 | 7 and | if you | do so | 7 
your | act 7 | 7 is a | disso- | lution | 7 of the | govern- | 
ment ; | 7 7 | you re- | solve so- | ciety | into its o- | rigi- 
nal j elements, | 7 and | no man ] 7 in the j land | 7 is 
| bound to o- | bey you. | 7 7 j 7 7 | Sir, 7 j 7 I j state 
| doctrines | which are | not 7 j merely | founded | 7 in 
the im- | mutable | laws | 7 of | justice and of | truth; | 
7 7 | 7 I | state | not 7 | merely the o- | pinions |7 of the 
| ablest | men | 7 who have | written on the | science of | 
govern- | ment ; 7 | 7 7 | but 1 | state the | practice | 7 of 
our | consti- | tution | 7 as | settled | at the | aera of the | 



EXERCISES. 301 

revo- | lution, | 7 but I | state the ] doctrine | under ! 
which 7 | 7 the | house of | Hanover | 7 de- ! rives its | 
title 7 to the | throne. ] 7 7 | 7 7 | Has the | king 7 | 7 a | 
right to trans- | fer his | crown ? | 7 7 | Is he j competent 
| 7 to an- | nex it to the | crown of | Spain, | 7 or of | any 
| other | country ? | 7 7 | No, | 7 7 | but he may | abdi- 
cate it ; j 7 and | every | man 7 | 7 who | knows the | 
consti- j tution, | knows the ] conse- | quence, | 7 7 | 7 
the | right re- | verts to the | next in sue- | cession ; | 7 7 
If they | all j abdicate, ! 7 it re- j verts to the j people, j 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | man who | questions | this 7 | doc- 
trine, | 7 in the | same | breath, | 7 7 | must ar- | raign 
the | sovereign on the | throne | 7 as a u- | surper. | 7 7 
| 7 7 | Are you | competent | 7 to trans- | fer your j le- 
gislative | rights 7 J 7 to the | French | council of | 
five | hundred ? | 7 7 | Are you | competent | 7 to trans- 
| fer them to the | British | parliament ? | 7 7 | 7 I | an- 
swer, | No. | 7 7 | 7 7 | When you trans- | fer 7 | 7 
you | abdicate, | 7 and the | great | 7 o- | riginal | trust 
7 | 7 re- | verts to the | people | 7 from ] whom it | is- 
sued. | 7 7 | 7 Your- ! selves | 7 you | may ex- | tin- 
guish, | 7 7 | 7 but | parliament | 7 you | cannot ex- 
tinguish ; | 7 7 | it is en- | throned in the | hearts of the 
j people : | 7 7 | it is en- | shrined | 7 in the | sanctuary 
| 7 of the | consti- | tution ; | 7 7 | it is im | mortal | 7 
as the | island | 7 which it pro- | tects ; | 7 7 | 7 as | 
well | 7 might the | frantic | suicide | 7 7 | hope that 
the | act 7 | 7 which de- | stroys his | miserable | body, 
| 7 7 | should ex- | tinguish | 7 his e- | ternal | soul, j 
7 7 | 7 7 ] 7 A- | gain I | therefore | warn you, | 7 7 | 
do not | dare to | lay your | hands | 7 on the | consti- | 
tution ; | 7 7 | it is a- | bove your | power. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

26 



302 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Sir, 7 I 7 I I do not | say 7 | that the | parliament | and 
the | people | 7 by | mutual con- | sent and | co-ope- | ra- 
tion, | 7 7 | may not | change the | form of the | consti- | 
tution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 When- ( ever [ such a | case a- | ri- 
ses, | 7 7 | 7 it | must be de- | cided | on its | own | mer- 
its : | 7 7 | 7 but | that is not | this | case. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 If | 
government | 7 con- | siders | this a | season | 7 pe- 
culiarly | fitted | 7 for ex- | periments | 7 on the | consti- J 
tution, | 7 7 | they may | call on the | people. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 
7 I | ask you, | 7 7 | are you | ready to | do so ? | 7 7 | 
Are you | ready to a- | bide the e- | vent of | such an ap- 
| peal ? 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 | What 7 | is it | you must | 7 in | that 
e- | vent, 7 | 7 sub- | mit to the i people ? | 7 7 | Not 7 | 
this par- | ticular | project, | 7 7 | for if you dis- | solve 
the | present | form of | government, | 7 7 | they be- | 
come 7 | free to | choose | any | other ; | 7 7 | 7 you | 
fling them to the | fury of the | tempest, | 7 7 | you must | 
call on them | 7 to un- | house them- | selves | 7 of the 
es- | tablished | consti- | tution, | 7 and to | fashion to 
them- I selves 7 | 7 an- | other. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | ask a- | 
gain, | 7 is | this the | time | 7 for an ex- | periment | 7 
of | that 7 | nature ? | 7 7 | 7 Thank | God 7 | 7 the | people 
have | mani- | fested | no such | wish ; | 7 7 so | far as | they 
have | spoken, | 7 7 | their 7 | voice is de- | cidedly a- | gainst 
| 7 this | daring I inno- | vation. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 You | know | 7 
that | no | voice | 7 has been I uttered in its | favor, | 7 7 
| and you | cannot be in- | fatuated e- | nough | 7 to | take 
7 | confidence | 7 from the | silence | 7 which pre- | vails 
in | some 7 | parts of the | kingdom, | 7 7 | 7 if you | 
know | how to ap- | preciate | 7 that | silence, | 7 it is | 
more | formidable | than the | most | clamorous | oppo- | 
sition; j 7 7 | you maybe | rived and | shivered by the | 



EXERCISES. 303 

lightning j 7 be- | fore you | hear the | peal of the ) thun- 
der ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | But Sir, | 7 we are | told 7 | 7 7 | that 
we should dis- | cuss this | question | 7 with | calmness | 7 
and com- | posure ! j 7 7 | I am | called on | 7 to sur- | 
render my | birth-right |7 and myj honor, |7 7 | and I am j 
told | I should be | calm, | 7 com- | posed ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
National | pride ! | 7 7 } Inde- | pendence of our | coun- 
try ! | 7 7 j These, 7 | 7 we are | told | 7 by the | minis- 
ter, | 7 are | only | vulgar | topics | 7 7 | fitted j for the 
me- | ridian | 7 of the j mob, | 7 but un- | worthy j 7 to 
be j mentioned j 7 to j such an en- j lightened as- j sem- 
bly | 7 as j this. 7 j 7 7 j They are | trinkets and | 
gewgaws, | fit to | catch the | fancy of | childish | 7 and un- 
j thinking | people | 7 like | you, Sir, | 7 or | like your : 
predecessor | 7 in | that | chair, | 7 7 | 7 but | ut- 
terly un- | worthy | 7 the con- | side- | ration | 7 of | 
this | house, | 7 7 | or of the ma- | tured | under- | 
standing | 7 of the | noble | lord 7 | 7 who | conde- | 
scends | 7 to in- | struct it ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Gracious | 
God ! 7 | 7 7 | 7 we | see a | Perry | re-as- | cending 
from the | tomb | 7 and | raising his | awful | voice 7 | 
7 to | warn us | 7 a- | gainst the sur- | render of our | 
freedom, j 7 and we | see that the proud and i 
virtuous | feelings | 7 which | warmed the | breast of 
that | aged | 7 and | venerable | man, | 7 are | only | 
calculated | 7 to ex- | cite the con- | tempt | 7 of this j 
young phi- j losopher, | 7 7 ' | who has been trans- | 
planted | 7 from the | nursery | 7 to the | cabinet | 7 to 
i outrage the | feelings | 7 and J under- | standing | 7 of 
the | country. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



304 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

EXECUTION OF THE EARL OF ARGYLE. 

Fox's History of James II 

7 On the | .thirtieth of | June, | 7 one | thousand | 7 
six | hundred | 7 and | eighty | five, | 7 the | Earl of 
Ar- | gyle | 7 was | brought from the | castle, | 7 7 | 
first, | 7 to the | Laigh | council house, | 7 and j thence, 
| 7 to the | place of exe- | cution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Be- | 
fore he | left the | castle, | 7 he | had his | dinner [ 7 at 
the | usual | hour, | 7 at | which he dis- | coursed, | 7 7 
| not only | calmly, | 7 but | even | cheerfully, | 7 
| with | Mr. | Chateris | 7 and | others. | 7 7 | 77 | Af- 
ter | dinner | 7 he re- | tired, | 7 7 | (as was his | cus- 
tom,) | 7 to his | bed-chamber, | 7 7 | where | 7 it is re- | 
corded, | 7 he | slept | quietly | 7 for a- | bout a | quar- 
ter of an | hour. | 7 7 | 7 7 | While he was in | bed, | 
one of the | members of the | council | came, | 7 and | 
intimated | 7 to the at- | tend ants, | 7 a de- | sire to | 
speak with him : | 7 7 | 7 upon | being | told | 7 that 
the | Earl | 7 was a- j sleep, | 7 and had | left | orders 
| not to be dis- | turbed, | 7 the j manager | disbe- | lie- 
ved the ac- j count, ] 7 7 | which he con- | sidered | 7 
as a de- | vice | 7 to a- | void | further | question- 
ings. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 To | satisfy him, | 7 the | door of the | bed-cham- 
ber, | 7 was | half | opened, | and | then he be- | held, 
j 7 en- | joying a | sweet and | tranquil | slumber, | 7 the 
j man, | 7 7 I 7 who | 7 by the | doom of | him and his 
| fellows, | 7 was to | die | 7 7 j 7 with- | in the | short 
| space | 7 of | two | hours. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Struck with 



EXERCISES. 305 

the sight, j 7 he | hurried | 7 out of the j room, | 7 7 | 
quitted the | castle | 7 with the | utmost pre- | cipi- | ta- 
tion, | 7 7 | 7 and | hid himself | 7 in the | lodgings of 
an ac- J quaintance | 7 who | lived | near, | 7 7 | 7 
where he | threw himself | 7 upon the | first | bed that 
pre- | sented itself | 7 7 | and had | every ap- | pearance 
of a | man | suffering j T the j most ex- | cruciating | tor- 
ture. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 His | friend | 7 7 | 7 who was ap- 
prised of the | state he was | in, | 7 and who j naturally 
. con- | eluded he was | ill, | 7 7 | offered him | 7 some ; 
wine | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He re- | fused, | saying, j " no, | no, 
| that I will not | help me. | 7 7 | 7 I have | been at Ar- | 
gyle, 7 and | saw him | sleeping | 7 as | pleasantly as | 
ever | man | did | 7 with- | in | one | hour | 7 of E- j 
ternity, | 7 7 | 7 but j as for j me." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The 
| name of the j person i 7 to , whom | this | anecdote re- j 
lates | 7 is | not | mentioned, | 7 7 | 7 and the | truth of 
it | 7 may | therefore | 7 be | fairly con- | sidered j 7 as 
| liable | 7 to | that de- | gree of | doubt, | 7 with | which 
| men of | judgment | 7 re- | ceive | every | species | 7 of 
tra- ! ditional I history. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Woodrow, | 7 how- ! ever, | 7 7 |whose ve- | racity | 
7 is a- | bove sus- | picion, | 7 7 | says, | 7 he | had it i 
7 from the j most un- | questionable | 7 au- | thority. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 It is j not in it- | self | 7 un- | likely ; | 7 7 | 
7 and | who is there, | 7 that | would not | wish it | true ? j 
7 7 | 7 7 | What a j satis- | factory | spectacle | 7 to a | 
philo- | sophical j mind, | 7 to | see the op- | pressor | 7 
in the | zenith of his | power j 7 7 | envying his | victim ! j 
7 7 | 7 7 | What an ac- | knowledgement | of the | supe- 
ri- | ority of | virtue ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | What an af- | fecting | 
7 and | forcible | testimony | 7 of the | value of that | 
26* 



306 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

peace of | mind, | 7 which | Innocence | 7 a- | lone | 7 
can con- | fer ! | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 We | know not | who | 7 
this | man | was, | 7 7 | 7 but | when we re- ( fleet | 7 
that the | guilt | 7 which | agonized him, | 7 was | proba- 
bly | 7 in- | curred | 7 for some | vain | title, | 7 or at | 
least | 7 for some | increase of | wealth | 7 which he | 
did not | want, | 7 and | possibly | knew not | how to 
en- | joy, | 7 7 | 7 our dis- | gust | 7 is | turned into | 
something | like com- | passion, | 7 for that | very | fool- 
ish | class of | men, j whom the | world | calls I wise in 
their | gene- | ration. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Soon | after this | short re- | pose, | 7 Ar- | gyle | 7 
was | brought | 7 ac- | cording to | order, | 7 to the | 
Laigh | council-house, | 7 from | which | place | 7 is | 
dated the | letter to his | wife, | 7 7 j 7 and from | thence 
| 7 to the | place of exe- | cution. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 On the 
j scaffold | 7 he had | some dis- | course, | 7 as | well 
with j Mr. | Annand, | 7 a | minister | 7 ap- | pointed 
by | Government | 7 to at- | tend him, | 7 7 | as with | 
Mr. | Chateris. | 7 7 | 7 7 | He de- | sired j both of 
them | 7 to | pray for him | 7 and j prayed him- j self j 
7 with | much j fervor | 7 and de- | votion. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 The | speech which he | made to the | people | 7 was 
| such as j might be ex- | pected j 7 from the | passages 
al-| ready re- | lated. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 7 The | same | mixture 
of | firmness | 7 and j mildness | 7 is con- | spicuous in | 
every | part of it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 "We | ought not," j 
7 said | he, | 7 " to des- | pise | our af- | flictions, | nor to 
J faint [ under them. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 We | should not | suf- 
fer ourselves j 7 to be ex- | asperated j 7 a- | gainst the | 
instruments | 7 of our | troubles, | nor by | fraudulent | 7 
or | pusil- | lanimous com- | pliance, | 7 7 | bring | guilt | 



EXERCISES. 307 

upon our- | selves ; j 7. 7, j faint j hearts | 7 are j usu- 
ally j false | hearts, j choosing j sin, j rather than | suffer- 
ing." | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 He j offers his | prayers j 7 for the ; 
three | kingdoms of j England, I Scotland, | 7 and | Ire- 
land, | 7 T | and that an j end ] 7 may be j put | 7 to their 
| present | trials. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Having | then | asked j par- 
don \ 7 for his I own j faults, | both of \ God and j man, | 
7 he I would have con- | eluded, | 7 but j being re- | 
minded j 7 that he had j said | nothing j 7 of the ] royal | 
family, j 7 he j adds, | 7 that he re- | fers, I 7 in | this | 
matter, | 7 to | what he had | said | 7 at his | trial | 7 con- 
| cerning the j test ; J 7 7 j 7 that he | prayed | 7 there [ 
never might be | wanting j one of the j royal j family | 
7 to sup- | port the J Protestant re- j ligion ; J 7 7 | 7 and 
if j any of them j 7 had J swerved J from the | true | 
faith, j 7 he | prayed | God j 7 to j turn their | hearts; | 
7 7 j 7 but at j any rate J 7 to j save his people | 7 from 
their ! machi- | nations. | .7 7 j 7 7 | 

When he had | ended, | 7 he | turned to the j south 
side of the | scaffold | 7 and | said, | 7 7 | u Gentlemen, 
| 7 I j pray you, | do not | miscon- | struct | my be- , 
havior | this | day. | 7 7 | 7 I | freely for- | give | all 
men | their j wrongs and | injuries | done a- | gainst j 
me, | 7 as | I de- | sire | to be for- | given of | God." \ 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 He | then em- | braced his | friends, | 7 7 
] gave some | tokens | 7 of his re- j membrance j 7 to 
his | son-in-law, | Lord ( Maitland, | 7 for his | daughter 
and | grand-children, | 7 7 | stript himself j 7 of | part 
of his ap- | parel, | 7 of | which he | likewise | made | 
presents, | 7 and | laid his | head ] upon the | block. [ 
7 7 | 7 7 | 

Havbg | uttered a | short [ prayer, | 7 he | gave the [ 



303 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

signal j 7 to the j exe- j cutioner, | which was | instant- 
ly o- | beyed, | 7 and his | head | severed from his j 
body. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Such were the | last | hours | 7 and | such the | final 
close | 7 of this | great | man's | life. | 7 7 | 7 7 | May 
the | like | happy se- | renity. | 7 in such | dreadful | 
circumstances, | 7 and a | death | equally | glorious | 7 
be the | lot of | all, | 7 whom | tyranny | 7 of what- | 
ever des- | cription | 7 or de- | nomi- | nation, | shall 
| 7 in | any | age, | 7 or in j any | country, | 7 7 | call 
to | expiate their | virtues 1 7 on the | scaffold ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



THOUGHTS IN A PLACE OF WORSHIP. 

Hannah More. 

7 And | here we | come and | sit, 7 | time after | time, 7 j 
7 And | call it | social | worship; | 7 7 J Is It J 

thus? 7 | 7 7 | 
Oh 7 | Thou ! | 7 7 | 7 whose | searching | all per- | 

vading | eye 7 | 
Scans every | secret | movement of the | heart, 7 | 
7 And | sees us | as we | are 7 | 7 7 | why 7 | mourns 

my | soul 7 | 
7 On | these oc- | casions ? | Why so | dead and | cold 7 | 
7 My | best af- | fections ? 1 1 have | found thee [ oft 7 | 
In my | more | secret | seasons, | 7 in the | field, | 
And in my | chamber : | 7 7 | even | 7 in the | stir 7 j 
7 Of | outward | occu- | pations | 7 has my | mind 7 j 



EXERCISES. 309 

7 Been j drawn to | thee, | 7 and | found thy | presencs 

j life : | 7 7 | 
7 But | here | 7 I | seek in | vain | 7 and | rarely | 

find 7 | 
7 Thy | ancient | promise | 7 to the | few that J wait 7 | 
7 In | singleness up- | on thee, | 7 7 | reach to | us. | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 
Most | sweet it | is 7 | 7 to | feel the | unity | 
7 Of | soul ce- | raenting | love 7 | gathering in | one 7 | 
Flowing from | heart to | heart, | 7 and | like a | cloud j 
7 Of I mingled | incense | 7 7 | rising to the | thone j 
7 Of | Love it- j self! | 7 7 | then 7 | much of | heaven 

is | felt 7 | 
7 By | minds | drawn | thither- | ward, 7 | 7 and j close- 
ly | linked | 
In the ce- | lestial | union, | 7 7 | 'tis in | this | 
Sweet [ element a- | lone, | 7 that | we can | live 7 
7 To | any | purpose, | 7 or ex- | pect our | minds 
Clothed with | that 7 | covering | which a- | lone pre- j 

pares 7 | 
7 For | social | worship. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Therefore | 

mourns my | soul 7 | 
7 In | secret, | 7 and like | one a- | midst the | vast 7 j 
7 And | widely | peopled | earth | 7 7 | 7 would | seek 

to | hide | 
7 My- | self and | sorrows | 7 from the | motly | crowd j 
7 Of | human | obser- | vation. | 7 7 | 7 But | Oh 

Thou j 
7 Whose | bowels | 7 of com- | passion j never | fail 7 | 
Towards the j creatures | fashioned by thy | hand 7 1 
Re- | animate the | dead 7 | 7 and | give to j those j 
7 Who | never | felt thy | presence | in their | souls j 



/ 
310 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 Nor | saw thy j beauty, j both to | see and | feel | 
7 That | thou art | lovely, | 7 and thy | presence 

life : | 7 7 | 
7 Re- | store the | wanderer, | 7 and sup- | port the 

weak 7 | 
With thy sus- | taining | arm, | 7 for | strength is 

thine. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And | Oh ! | 7 pre- | serve this | tempest beaten 

bark | 
7 From | sinking in the j wave, 1 7 whose | swelling 

surge | 
Threatens to | over- | whelm, | 7 For- | sake her 

not 7 | 
7 But | be her | Pilot, | 7 7 | though | no | sun nor J 

star 7 | 
7 Ap- | pear a- | mid the ] gloom ; | for if a | ray j 
7 From j thy | all | cheering j presence, j 7 7 j light 

her | course | 
7 She | rides the | storm se- | cure, | 7 7 | and in | due | 

time 7 | 
7 Will | reach her | destined | port, 7 | 7 7 | 7 and | be 

at | peace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



THE DOG AND WATER LILY. 

Cowper. 

7 The | moon was | shady | 7 and | soft | airs 7 

Swept | Ouse's | silent | tide, 7 | 
When 7 | 'scaped from | literary | cares, 7 | 

7 I | wander' d | 7 on his | side. | 77 | 7 7 | 



EXERCISES. 311 

7 My | spaniel, | prettiest of his | race, 7 | 

7 And | high | 7 in | pedigree, | 
(Two | nymphs | 7 a- | domed with | every | grace 7 j 

That | spaniel | found for | me,) 7 | 

Now | wanton'd | lost in | flags | 7 and | reeds 7 | 

Now | starting | 7 into | sight, 7 | 
7 Pur- | sued the | swallow o'er the | meads 7 | 

7 With | scarce a | slower | flight. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

It was the | time when | Ouse dis- | play'd | 

7 His | lilies | newly | blown ; 7 | 
7 Their | beauties | I in- | tent | 7 sur- | vey'd 7 [ 

7 And | one I | wish'd my | own. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 With | cane ex- | tended | far 7 | 7 1 | sought 7 | 

7 To | steer it | close to | land ; 7 \ 
7 But | still the | prize | 7 though | nearly j caught, 7 | 

7 Es- | caped my | eager | hand. J 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Beau | mark'd | 7 my | unsuc- [ cessful | pains 7 | 
7 With | fix'd con- | siderate | face, 7 | 

7 And | puzzling j 7 7 | sat his | puppy | brains 7 | 
7 To | compre- | hend the | case. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

But with a | chirup | clear and | strong, | 

7 Dis- | persing | all his | dream, 7 | 
7 I | thence with- | drew 7 | 7 and | follow'd 1 long 7 j 

7 The | windings | 7 of the | stream, j 7 7 | 7 7 

7 My | ramble | finish'd | I re- | turn'd, | 7 7 j 

Beau 7 | (trotting | far be- | fore) 7 | 
7 The | floating | wreath | 7 a- | gain dis- | cern'd | 

7 And | plunging | left the | shore. | 7 7 I 7 7 | 



312 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 I | saw him with that | lily j cropped 7 | 

7 Im- | patient | swim to | meet 7 \ 
7 My | quick ap- | proach | 7 and | soon he | dropped 7 | 

7 The | treasure | 7 at my | feet. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Charm'd with the | sight, | 7 the | world, | 71 | cried, 7 | 

7 Shall | hear of | this thy | deed : 7 | 
7 My | dog shall | mortify the | pride 7 | 

7 Of | man's | 7 su- | perior j breed : | .7 7 | 

7 But | chief | 7 my- | self | I will en- | join, 7 | 

7 A- | wake at | duty's | call, 7 | 
7 To | show a | love | 7 as | prompt as | thine 7 | 

7 To | Him who | gives me | all. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



THE DELUGE. 



GENESIS, CHAPTER VII. 



And the | Lord 7 | said unto | Noah, | 7 p | Come \ 
thou, | 7 and | all thy | house | into the | ark : | 7 7 | 7 
for | thee have I | seen | righteous be- | fore me | 7 in | 
this 7 | gene- | ration. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Of I every | clean 
| beast 7 | thou shalt | take to thee by | sevens, | 7 the } 
male and his | female : | 7 7 | 7 and of | beasts that are | 
not 7 [ clean | 7 by | two, 7 | 7 the | male and his | fe- 
male. | 7 7 | 7 Of | fowls | also | 7 of the | air | 7 by | 
sevens, | 7 the | male and the | female ; | 7 to | keep 7 | 
seed a- | live | upon the | face of | all the | earth. | 7 7 | 
7 7)7 For | yet 7 j seven | days 7 | and I will | cause it | 



EXERCISES. 313 

7 to I rain upon the | earth | forty | days | 7 and | forty | 
nights : | 7 7 | 7 and | every | living | substance | 7 that I 
have | made, 7 | will I de- | stroy 7 | 7 from | off the | 
face of the | earth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 And | Noah | did | 7 ac- | cording unto | all that 
the | Lord com- | manded him. | 7 7 j 7 And | Noah 
was | six | hundred | years | old, 7 [ 7 when the | flood 
of | waters | was upon the | earth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 And | Noah | went 7 | in 7 | 7 and his | sons, | 7 
and his | wife, | 7 and his | sons' | wives | with him, | 
into the | ark, | 7 be- | cause of the | waters of the | 
flood. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Of ! clean | beasts | 7 and of | 
beasts that are | not 7 | clean, | 7 and of | fowls, | 7 and 
of | every | thing that | creepeth | upon the | earth, | 7 7 | 
There | went | in 7 | two and | two 7 | 7 unto | Noah | 
into the | ark, | 7 the | male and the | female | 7 as | God 
had com- | manded | Noah- | 7 7 | 7 7 | And it | came 
to | pass i after | seven | days, | 7 that the | waters of 
the | flood | were upon the | earth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 In the | six | hundredth | year of | Noah's | life, | 
7 in the J second | month, | 7 the | seventeenth | day 
of the | month, | 7 the | same | day, | 7 were j all the I 
fountains of the | great | deep | broken | up, 7 | 7 and 
the | windows of | heaven | 7 were | opened. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 And the | rain | was upon the | earth | forty j days 
j 7 and | forty j nights. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

7 In the | self 7 | same | day | entered | Noah, | 7 
and | Shem, | 7 and | Ham, 7 | 7 and | Japheth, | 7 
the [ sons of | Noah ; | 7 and | 7 Noah's | wife, | 7 and 
the | three | wives of his | sons | with them, | into the | 
ark : | 7 7 | They, 7 | 7 and | every | beast | after his | 
kind, | 7 and | all the | cattle | after | their | kind, | 7 

27 



314 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

and | every | creeping | thing that | creepeth | upon the j 
earth 7 | after | his | kind, | 7 and | every | fowl | after 
his | kind, 7 | every | bird of | every | sort. 7 | 7 7 j 7 
And they | went | in unto | Noah | into the I ark, | 7 7 j 
two and | two of | all | flesh, | 7 where- | in is the | 
breath of | life. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | they that | went 7 
| in, 7 | went in | male and | female, of | all | flesh, 7 [ 
7 as | God had corn- | manded him. | 7 7 | And the ( 
Lord 7 | shut him | in. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 And the | flood was | forty | days | upon the j 
earth : | 7 7 | 7 and the | waters in- | creased, | 7 and | 
bare up the | ark, | 7 7 | and it was | lift | up a- | bove 
the | earth. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | waters pre- | vail- 
ed, 7 j 7 and were in- | creased | greatly | upon the | 
earth : | 7 7 | 7 and the | ark went | up on the | face of 
the | waters. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And the | waters pre- | 
vailed ex- | ceedingly | 7 upon the | earth. 7 | 7 7 | 7 
And j all the | high | hills | 7 that were | under the | whole 
| heavens, | 7 were | covered. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Fif- | teen } 
cubits | upward | did the | waters pre- | vail; | 7 and the 
| mountains were | covered. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 And | all j 
flesh j died | 7 that | moved upon the | earth, 7 | both 
of | fowl, 7 j 7 and of | cattle. | 7 and of | beast, 7 | 7 
and of | every | creeping | thing | 7 that | creepeth | up- 
on the | earth, | 7 and | every | man. | 7 7 | 7 7 | All 
in whose | nostrils | 7 was the | breath of | life, | 7 of | 
all [ that was in the | dry 7 | land, | died, j 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 
And | every | living | substance | was de- | stroyed 7 | 
7 which | was upon the | face of the | ground, 7 | 7 7 | 
both 7 j man, | 7 and | cattle, | 7 and the | creeping | 
things, 7 j 7 and the | fowl of the | heaven ; | 7 7 | 
And they were de- | sti-oyed from the | earth : | 7 7 ( 7 



EXERCISES. 



315 



and [ Noah j only | 7 re- | mained a- | live, | 7 and 
they that were | with him ] 7 in the | ark. 7 | 7 7 | 7 7 
7 And the | waters pre- | vailed upon the | earth j 7 an 
hundred and | fifty | days. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



HOHENLINDEN. 

Campbell. 

7 On | Linden | 7 7 | when the | sun was ] low, | 
7 All | bloodless [ 7 7 | lay the un- | trodden | snow, j 
7 7 | 7 And | dark as | winter | 7 was the | flow | 
7 Of | Iser | rolling | rapidly. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 But | Linden | 7 7 | saw an- | other | sight | 
When the [ drum | beat | 7 at | dead of j night | 
7 Com- | manding | fires of | death, | 7 to | light | 
7 The | darkness | 7 of her | scenery. ] 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 By | torch and [ trumpet | 7 7 | fast ar- | ray'd | 
Each | horseman | drew his | battle | blade, j 7 7 j 
7 And | furious | 7 7 | every | charger | neighed | 
7 To | join the | dreadful | revelry. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Then | shook the | hills | 7 with j thunder | riven, J 
Then | rush'd the | steed, | 7 to j battle | driven, j 
7 7 | And | louder than the | bolts of j heaven, f 7 7 | 
Far, | flash'd | 7 the | red | 7 ar- | tillery. | 7 7 | 7 7 

7 And | redder | yet | 7 those j fires shall | glow, | 
7 On I Linden's I hills of I blood-stain'd I snow ; ! 7 7 



316 



GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



7 And I darker | yet | 7 shall | be the j flow, | 
7 Of | Iser | rolling | rapidly. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 "Tis | morn ; | 7 7 | 7 but | scarce | yon | lurid | sun j 
7 Can | pierce the | war-clouds | rolling | dun ; | 7 7 | 
7 Where [ furious | Frank | 7 and j fiery | Hun | 
7 7 | Shout in their | sulphurous | canopy. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 The | combat | deepens. | 7 7 | 7 7 | On | 7 ye | brave | 
7 Who | rush to | glory | 7 ? 1 7 or the | grave, | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Wave, | 7 7 | Munich, | 7 7 | all thy | banners | wave ; 

| 7 7 | 
7 And | charge | 7 with | all | 7 thy | chivalry. | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 

Few, | few shall | part | where | many | meet, | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 The | snow | 7 shall be their | winding | sheet ; I 7 7 | 
7 And | every | turf | 7 be- | neath their | feet | 
7 Shall | be a | soldier's | sepulchre. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



ADDRESS OF HENRY V. TO HIS TROOPS BEFORE THE 
GATES OF HARFLEUR. 

Shakspeare. 

Once | more | unto the | breach J dear | friends, j 7 7 | 

once | more ; | 7 7 | 
7 Or | close the | wall up | 7 with our | English | 

dead. | 7 7 | 
7 In | peace | 7 7 | 7 there's | nothing | so be- | comes 

a | man | 



EXERCISES. 31 T 

7 As | modest j stillness | 7 andhu- j mility. | 7 7 | 
But when the | blast of | war | 7 7 | blows in our j 

ears, | 
Then | imitate the | action of the | tiger : | 
Stiffen the | sinews, | 7 7 | summon | up the | blood, j 
7 Dis- | guise | fair | nature | 7 with | hard | favored i 

rage : | 7 7 ! 
Then | lend the | eye j 7 a | terrible | aspect; | 
7 7 | Let it | pry | 7 through the j portage of the j head, j 
Like the | brass | cannon ; | let the | brow o'er ! 

whelm it, | 
7 As | fearfully | as doth a | galled | rock | 7 7 | 
7 O'er- | hang and | jutty | 7 his con- | founded | base | 
7 7 ! Swilled with the | wild | 7 and j wasteful j ocean, j 

7 7 ] 7 7 | 
Now | set the j teeth, | 7 and | stretch j 7 the | nostril j 

wide, | 
Hold | hard the j breath, j 7 and | bend | up | every | 

spirit | 
7 To his | full | height ! | 7 7 | On, 7 | on, 7 | you j noble 

| English, | 7 7 | 
7 Whose | blood is | fet from j fathers of i war | proof ! i 
Fathers | 7 J j 7 that | like | so many j Alexanders, | 
Have in these j parts, j 7 from | morn till | even j 

fought | 
7 And ! sheathed their | swords j 7 for j lack of | argu- 
ment, j 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Dis- j honor not your | mothers. | 7 7 | Now at- | test | 
7 That | those whom you | call'd | Fathers | did be- | 

get yon! | 
7 Be | copy | now | 7 to | men of | grosser | blood, | T 7 j 
7 And | teach them ! how to | war ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

27* 



318 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 And | you, | good | yeomen, j 
7 Whose | limbs were | made in | England, | show us | 

here | 
7 The | mettle of your | pasture ; | 7 7 | let us | swear | 
7 That you are | worth your | breeding : | 7 7 | which I j 

doubt not. | 
7 7 | For there is | none of you | so | mean and | base | 
7 That | hath not | noble | lustre | 7 in your | eyes. | 

7 7 | 77 | 
7 I | see you | stand, | like | grey hounds | 7 in the | 

slips, | 7 7 | 
Straining | upon the | start. | 7 7 | 

7 The | game's a | foot, | 7 7 | 
Follow your | spirit : | 7 7 | and upon | this | charge, | 
Cry | God for | Harry ! | 7 7 | England ! | 7 and | Saint 

| George ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



LUCY. 



Wordsworth. 

Three | years | 7 she | grew, | 7 in | sun and | show- 
er, | 7 7 | 
Then | nature | said, | 7 " a | lovelier | jflower | 

7 On | earth | 7 was | never | sown ; | 7 7 | 
This | child | I to my- | self | 7 will | take, ; | 
7 7 | She shall be | mine, | 7 7 | and I will | make | 

7 A | lady | of my | own. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



EXERCISES. 319 

" 7 My- | self | will to my j darling | 7 7 | be, [ 

7 Both J law and | impulse : | 7 7 j 7 and with | me | 

7 The | girl | 7 in | rock | 7 and | plain, | 
7 In | earth and J heaven, | 7 in | glade and | bower, | 
7 Shall | feel | 7 an ] over- | seeing | power | 

7 To | kindle j 7 and re- | strain. | 7 7 | 7 7 [ 

" She shall be | sportive | 7 as the | fawn | 

7 That | wild with | glee | 7 a- | cross the | lawn | 

7 Or | up the j mountain ( 7 ? | springs ; | 7 7 | 
7 And | hers | 7 shall j be the | breathing j balm, | 
7 And | hers | 7 the | silence | 7 and the | calm | 

7 Of | mute in- | sensate | things. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 

" 7 The | floating j clouds | 7 their | state shall | lend | 
7 To | her ; | 7 7 | 7 for | her | 7 the | willow | bend ; j 

7 7 | Nor shall she | fail to [ see, | 
Even in the | motions | 7 of the | storm, | 
Grace, | 7 that shall | mould | 7 the | maiden's | form. | 

7 By | silent | sympathy. | 7 7 | 

" 7 7 | 7 The j stars of J midnight | 7 shall be j dear j 
7 To j her ; j 7 7 j and she shall j lean her j ear J 

7 In | many a j secret j place, | 
7 Where j rivulets j dance their | wayward | round, j 7 7 j 
7 And j beauty, | 7 7 | born of | murmuring | sound, | 

7 Shall | pass | into her face. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 And | vital | feelings of de- [ light | 

7 Shall [ rear her | form | 7 to | stately | height ; | 

7 7 | 7 Her | virgin | bosom | swell ; | 7 7 | 
Such | thoughts | 7 to | Lucy | 7 I will | give, [ 



320 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 While j she and | I j 7 to- | gether | live j 
Here | 7 in this j happy | dell." | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

Thus | nature | spake. | 7 7 | 7 The | work | 7 was 

done. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 How | soon | 7 my j Lucy's | race | 7 was | run ! | 7 7 | 

7 She | died, | 7 7 | 7 and | left to | me j 
7 This | heath, | 7 this | calm and | quiet | scene ; | 
7 7 | 7 The | memory of | what | has | been, | 

7 7 | 7 And ] never | more | 7 will | be. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



CONCLUSION OF THE REV. ROBERT HALLS SERMON, 

Before the Volunteers at Bristol, in the prospect of inva- 
sion by France. 

7 To | form an | adequate i- | dea | 7 of the | duties 
of | this | crisis, | 7 7 | you must | raise your | minds | 7 
to a | level | with your | station, | 7 7 | 7 and ex- | tend 
your | views | 7 to a | distant fu- | turity ; | 7 7 | 7 to J 
consequences | 7 the | most | certain, | 7 7 | though re- 
I mote. | 7 7 | 7 7 | By a | series of | criminal | enter- 
prises, | 7 7 | by the sue- | cesses of | guilty am- | bi- 
tion, j 7 7 | 7 the | liberties of | Europe | have been | 
gradually | 7 ex- | tinguished : | 7 7 | 7 the | subju- j 
gation of | Holland, | Switzerland, | 7 and the | free | 
towns of | Germany, | 7 has com- | pleted | that ca- | 
tastrophe : | 7 7 | 7 and | we are the | only | people | 
7 in the | eastern | hemisphere | who are in pos- | ses- 
sion of | equal | laws, [ 7 and a | free [ consti- | tuition. | 



EXERCISES. 321 

7 7 | 7 7 | But the | inun- | dation of | lawless | power, 
7 7 | after | covering the | rest of | Europe, | 7 7 | 
threatens | England ; | 7 7 | 7 and | we are | most ex- | 
actly, | most | critically | placed | 7 in the | only | aper- 
ture | 7 7 | where it can be | 7 sue- | cessfully re- | pel- 
led, 7 | 7 7 j in the Ther- | mopylae | 7 of the ) uni- 
verse. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 As | far as the | interests of | freedom | 7 are con- | 
cerned, | 7 7 | 7 the | most im- | portant by | far 7 | 7 
of | sublu- | nary | interests, | 7 7 | you, | 7 my | coun- 
trymen, | 7 7 | stand in the ca- | pacity | 7 of the | fede- 
ral | repre- | sentatives | 7 of the | human | race ; 7 | 
7 7 | for with | you | 7 it | is to de- | termine, | (under \ 
God,) j 7 in | what con- | dition | 7 the | latest pos- | 
terity | shall be | born; | 7 7 | 7 their | fortunes | are 
en- | trusted to | your | care, | and on | your | conduct I 
7 at | this | moment | 7 de- | pends the | color | 7 and 
com- | plexion of their | destiny. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 If j 
liberty, | 7 7 | after being ex- | tinguished | on the | 
continent, | 7 is | suffered to ex- j pire | here, | 7 7 | 
whence is it [ ever to e- | merge | 7 in the | midst of 
that | thick | night | that will in- | vest it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

It re- [ mains with j you then | 7 to de- j cide | whe- 
ther that | freedom, | 7 at | whose | voice | 7 the [ king- 
doms of | Europe | 7 a- | woke from the | sleep of I 
ages, | 7 to | run a ca- | reer of | virtuous | emu- | la- 
tion | 7 in | every thing | great and | good ; | 7 7 | 7 
the | freedom | which dis- | pelledthe | mists of | super- 
stition, | 7 and in- | vited the | nations | 7 to be- | hold 
their | God; | 7 7 | whose | magic | touch | kindled the 
I rays of | genius, | 7 the en- | thusiasm of | poetry, | and 
the | flame of | eloquence ; | 7 7 | 7 the | freedom | 7 



322 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

which I poured into our | lap 7 | opulence | 7 and | arts, | 
7 7 | 7 and em- | bellished | life | 7 with in- | numerable 
i insti- | tutions | 7 and im- | provements, | 7 7 | till it be- 
| came a | theatre of | wonders ; | 7 7 | it is for | you to 
de- | cide | whether this | freedom | 7 shall | yet sur- 
vive, | 7 or | perish for | ever. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But you 
| have de- | cided. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 With | such a 
trust, I every | thought of | what is af- | flicting in | war- 
fare, I 7 7 I every | appre- | hension of | danger | must 
vanish, | 7 7 | 7 and | you are im- | patient to | mingle 
7 in the | battle of the | civilized | world. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Go then, | ye de» | fenders of your | country, | 7 ac- 
companied J 7 with I every aus- | picious | omen ; | 7 7 
7 ad- I vance with a- | lacrity j into the | field, | 7 where 
I God him- | self | musters the | hosts of | war. | 7 7 | 7 7 
I 7 Re- I ligion | 7 is | too much | interested | in your 
sue- I cess, 7 I not to | lend you | her | aid ; | 7 7 | she 
will I shed | over your | enterprise | her se- | lectest j in- 
fluence. I 7 7 I 7 7 I While | you are en- | gaged in 
the I field | 7 7 | many | will re- | pair to the | closet, | 
7 7 I many to the | sanctuary; | 7 7 | 7 the | faith- 
ful of I every | name | will em- | ploy | that | prayer | 
which has | power with | God ; | 7 7 | 7 the | feeble | 
hands 7 | which are un- | equal | 7 to | any | other | wea- 
pon, I 7 7 I 7 will I grasp the | sword of the | Spirit: | 7 7 
j and from | myriads of | humble, | contrite | hearts, | 7 
the j voice of | inter- | cession, | suppli- | cation, | 7 and | 
weeping, | 7 will | mingle | in its as- | cent to | heaven | 
with the I shouts of | battle | 7 and the | shock of | arms. | 
77 I 77 I 

7 My I Brethren, | 7 I | cannot but i- | magine | 7 the 
I virtuous j heroes, | legislators and | patriots, | 7 of | eve- 



EXERCISES. 323 

ry | age and | country, | 7 are | bending from their | ele- 
vated | seats | 7 to | witness this | contest, j 7 in- | capa- 
ble, | till it be | brought to a | favorable | issue, | 7 of en- | 
joying | their e- | ternal | 7 re- | pose. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 En- | 
joy that re- | pose, | 7 il- | lustrious im- | mortals | 7 7 | 
7 Your | mantle | fell when | you as- | cended ; | 7 7 | 7 
and | thousands, | 7 in- | flamed with your | spirit, | 7 and 
im- | patient to | tread in your | steps, | 7 7 | 7 are | ready 
to | swear by | Him that | sitteth on the | throne, | 7 and | 
liveth for | ever and | ever, | 7 that | they will pro- | tect 
| freedom | 7 in her | last a- | sylum, | 7 and | never de- | 
sert | that | cause, | 7 which | you sus- | tained by your | 
labors, | 7 and ce- | mented with your | blood. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 And j Thou, | 7 7 | sole | ruler | 7 a- | mong the | 
children of | men, | 7 7 | 7 to | whom | 7 the | shields of 
the | earth be- | long, | 7 7 | gird | on thy | sword, | thou 
most | Mighty : | 7 7 | go | forth with our | hosts | 7 in 
the | day of j battle ! | 7 7 | 7 Im- | part, j in ad- | dition 
to | their he- | reditary | valor, | 7 7 | that | confidence | 7 
of sue- j cess | 7 which | springs from | thy | pre- 
sence ! j 7 7 | 7 7 | Pour into their | hearts | 7 the 
| spirit of de- | parted | heroes ! | 7 7 | 7 In- | spire 
them | with thine | own ; | 7 7 | and while | led by 
thine | hand | 7 and | fighting | under thy | banners, | 
open | thou their | eyes | 7 to be- | hold in j every | valley, 
|7 and in j every j plain, | what the | prophet | 7 be- | held 
by the | same il- | lumi- | nation | 7 7 | chariots of j fire 
| 7 and | horses of j fire ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Then shall the \ 
strong j man j be as | tow, | 7 and the | maker of it ] 
7 as a | spark ;| 7 7 ] and they shall | burn to- j gether, J 
7 7 | 7 and j none shall j quench them. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 



324 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



addison's hymn. 



7 When | all thy | mercies, | 7 7 j O my | God, | 
7 My | rising | soul sur- | veys, | 
7 Trans- | ported | 7 with the | view, | 7 I'm | lost | 
7 In | wonder, | love and | praise ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

O | how shall | words | 7 with j equal | warmth | 
7 The | gratitude | 7 de- | clare, | 
7 That | glows | 7 with- | in my | ravished | heart ! 
7 7 | But | thou | 7 canst | read it | there. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

Thy | providence | 7 my | life sus- | tained, | 
7 And | all my | wants re- | drest, | 
7 7 | When in the | silent | womb j 7 I | lay, | 
7 And | hung j 7 upon the | breast. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 To | all my | weak com- | plaints | 7 and | cries | 
7 Thy | mercy | lent an | ear, | 
7 Ere | yet my | feeble ( thoughts [ 7 had | learned | 
7 To | form themselves | 7 in | prayer. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Un- | numbered | comforts | 7 to my | soul | 7 7 ] 

7 Thy | tender j care be- | stowed, j 

7 Be- | fore my | infant | heart \ 7 con- j ceived | 

7 From | whom those j comforts j flowed, j 7 7 j 7 7 | 

When in the | slippery | paths of | youth | 

7 With | heedless | steps | 7 1 | ran, | 7 7 j 

Thine | arm | 7 un- j seen j 7 con- | veyed me j safe, 

I 7 TJ 
7 And | led me | up to J man. j 7 7 j 7 7 j 

7 Through j hidden j dangers, j 7 7 | toils and j deaths, \ 



EXERCISES* 325 

7 It I gently | cleared my | way, | 

And through the j pleasing j snares of j vice, j 

More to be | feared | 7 than | they* | 7 7 j 7 7 | 

7 When | worn with | sickness | 7 7 | oft hast | thou | 
With | health | 7 re- | newed my | face ; | 7 7 \ 
And when in | sins and | sorrows | sunk, | 
7 Re- | vived my | soul with | grace. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 

7 Thy | bounteous | hand | 7 with | worldly | bliss | 
7 Has | made my | cup | 7 run | o'er ; | 7 7 | 
And in a | kind and | faithful | friend | 
7 Has | doubled | all my | store. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Ten | thousand j thousand | precious | gifts | 
7 My | daily | thanks em- | ploy ; | 
7 7 | Nor is the | least | 7 a J cheerful | heart, | 
7 That | tastes those | gifts with j joy. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Through | every | period of my | life | 

7 Thy | goodness | 7 I'll pur- | sue ; | 

7 And j after | death | 7 in | distant | worlds, | 

7 The | glorious | theme re- | new. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 WTien | Nature | fails, | 7 and | day and | night | 
7 Di- | vide thy | works no | more, | 
7 My | ever | grateful | heart 7 | O j Lord | 
7 Thy | mercy | 7 shall a- | dore. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Through | all e- | ternity | 7 7 | 7 to j thee | 
7 A | joyful | song | 7 I'll | raise. | 7 7 | 
7 But | Oh ! | 7 E- | ternity's | too | short j 
7 To | utter j all thy | praise. | 7 7 j 7 7 j 

28 



326 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION". 

PART OF THE BURIAL SERVICE. 

From the Book of Common Prayer. 

I am the j resur- j rection | 7 and the | life, | 7 7 j 
saith the | Lord ; | 7 7 | he that be- | lieveth in | me, | 
though he were | dead, | 7 7 | yet shall he | live : | 7 7 
] 7 and | whoso- | ever | liveth, | 7 and be- | lieveth in | 
me, | 7 shall | never | die. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 I | know | that my Re- | deemer | liveth, | 7 7 | 
and that he shall | stand | 7 at the | latter | day | 7 upon 
the | earth, | 7 7 | 7 and | though | worms de- | stroy | 
this | body, | 7 7 | yet in my | flesh | 7 shall I | see | 
God. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Be- | hold, | 7 thou hast | made my | days, 7 | as 
it were | 7 a | span | long : | 7 7 | 7 and mine | age | 7 
is | even as | nothing | 7 in res- | pect of | thee ; | 7 7 | 
7 and | verily | every | man | living | 7 is | alto- | geth- 
er | vanity; | 7 7 | 7 for | man | walketh in a | vain | 
shadow, | 7 and dis- | quieteth him- | self in | vain : | 
7 7 | 7 he | heapeth | up | riches | 7 and | cannot | tell 
| who shall | gather them. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 A | thousand | years | 7 in | thy | sight | are but as 
| yesterday ; [ 7 7 | seeing | that is | past | 7 as a | watch 
in the | night. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 As | soon as thou | scatter- 
est them | 7 7 | they are | even as a- [ sleep : | 7 7 | 7 
and | fade away | suddenly | 7 like the | grass. | 7 7 ] 
7 7 | 7 In the | morning ( T it is J green, | 7 and j grow- 
eth | up: | 7 7 [ but in the | evening | 7 it is | cut | 
down, | dried | up, | 7 and | withered. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

We con- | sume a- | way | 7 in thy dis- | pleasure ; | 
7 7 | and are a- | fraid | 7 at thy | wrathful | indig- | 



EXERCISES. 327 

nation : | 7 for | when thou art | angry, j 7 7 j all our | 
days are | gone, 7 | and we | bring our | years | 7 to an 
end, 7 | as it w T ere a | tale | 7 that is [ told. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
So | teach us to | number our | days : | 7 7 | that we 
may ap- | ply our | hearts | 7 unto | wisdom. | 7 7 | 
77| 

Now is | Christ | risen from the | dead, | 7 and be- | 
come the | first | fruits | 7 of | them that | slept : | 7 7 | 
7 for | since by | man | came | death, | 7 by | man | 
came | also, | 7 the | resur- | rection of the | dead. | 7 7 
| 7 7 | As in | Adam | all | die, | 7 7 | even | so | 7 in j 
Christ | 7 shall | all be | made a- | live. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 
But | some | man | 7 will | say, 7 | u How are the j 
dead | raised | up ? | 7 7 \ and with | what | body | 7 
do they | come ?" | 7 7 | 7 7 | Thou | fool, | 7 7 | that 
which thou | sowest | 7 is I not [ quickened | 7 ex- j 
cept it | die : | 7 7 j 7 and | that which thou | sowest, | 
7 tliou | sowest not | that | body | 7 that | shall be, | 7 
but | bare | grain, | 7 7 | 7 it may | chance of | wheat, [ 
or of | some | other | grain : | 7 7 j 7 but | God | giveth 
it a | body, | as it hath | pleased | him ; | 7 7 | 7 and to 
| every | seed | 7 his j own | body. | 7 7 | 7 7 | So, [ 
also, | 7 is the | resur- | rection | 7 of the | dead : | 7 7 
| 7 It is | sown | 7 in cor- | ruption : | 7 7 | 7 it is | rais- 
ed | 7 in | incor- | ruption : 1 7 7 | 7 It is | sown | 7 in 
dis- | honor ; | 7 7 | 7 it is | raised | 7 in | glory : | 7 7 | 
7 It is | sown | 7 in | weakness ; | 7 7 | 7 it is I raised | 
7 in | power : | 7 7 | 7 It is | sown | 7 a | natural | body, 
| 7 7 | 7 it is | raised | 7 a | spiritual | body. | 7 7 | 7 7 
| Now | this I | say, | brethren, | 7 that | flesh and | 
blood | cannot in- | herit the | kingdom of | God ; | 7 7 | 



328 GRAMMAR QF ELOCUTION, 

neither doth cor- | ruption | 7 in- | herit | incor- j rup- 
tion. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 Be- | hold, | 7 I | show you a | mystery. | 7 7 j 
7 7 | We shall | not | all | sleep : | 7 7 | but we shall | 
all be | changed | 7 in a | moment, J 7 in the | twinkling 
of an | eye, | 7 at the | last I trump : | 7 7 | for the 
trumpet shall | sound, j 7 and the | dead shall be j raised 
| incor- | ruptible, | 7 and | we shall he | changed. | 7 7 
| 7 7 | 7 For | this cor- | ruptible | 7 must | put on | in- 
cor- | ruption, | 7 7 | 7 and this | mortal [ 7 must | put 
on | immor- | tality, | 7 7 | 7 7 | So | when this cor- | 
ruptible | shall have | put on | incor- | ruption ; | 7 and 
this | mortal | shall have | put on | immor- | tality, | 7 7 
| then shall be | brought to | pass | 7 the | saying that is j 
written | 7 7 | " Death | 7 is | swallowed | up | 7 in | 
victory." I 7 7 | 7 7 | O | Death ! | 7 7 | where is thy | 
sting ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | O | Grave ! | 7 7 | where is thy | 
victory ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | sting of | death | 7 is | 
sin ; | 7 7 | 7 and the j strength of | sin [ 7 is the | law. [ 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 But | thanks be to | God, | 7 who | giveth 
us the | victory, | 7 7 | through our | Lord | Jesus | 
Christ. | 7 7 | 7 7 [ 

Man that is | born of a | woman, \ 7 7 | hath but a | 
short | time to | live, | 7 and is | full of | misery. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 He | cometh | up, | 7 and is | cut | down | 7 
like a | flower : | 7 7 | 7 he | fleeth, | 7 as it | were, 
a | shadow, | 7 and | never con- | tinueth | 7 in | one | 
stay. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 In the | midst of | life 7 | we are in | 
death : | 7 7 | 7 Of | whom may we | seek for | succor, 
| but of | thee, [ O | Lord : | 7 7 | who for our | sins | 7 
art j justly dis- | pleased ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Yet | O | Lord | 
God I most | holy ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | O | Lord | most | 



EXERCISES. 329 

mighty; | 7 7 | O | holy | 7 and most | merciful | Sav- 
iour ; | 7 7 | 7 de- | liver us | not 7 ] into the | bitter ! 
pains | 7 of e- | ternal | death. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



antony's oration over Cesar's body. 

Shakspeare. 

Friends, ] 7 7 | Romans, | 7 7 | Countrymen ! | 7 7 | 

Lend me your | ears ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 I | come | 7 to | bury | Caesar, | 7 7 | not to j praise [ 

him. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 The | evil | 7 that | men | do, | lives | after them ; | 7 7 | 
7 The | good | 7 is | oft in- | terred | 7 with their | 

bones: | 7 7 | 
So let it | be | 7 frith | Caesar ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | Noble | 

Brutus | 
7 Hath | told you, | Caesar | 7 was am- | bitious. j 7 7 | 
If it | were so, | it was a | grievous | fault ; | 7 7 | 
7 And | grievously | 7 hath | Caesar | answered it. | 7 7 | 
Here, | under | leave of | Brutus, | 7 and the | rest, | 
7 (For | Brutus | 7 is an | honorable | man, | 7 7 | 
So are they | all, 7 | all | honorable | men,) | 7 7 | 
Come I | 7 to | speak | 7 at | Caesar's | funeral. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

He was my | friend, | 7 7 | faithful | 7 and | just to j 
me : | 7 7 | 
7 But | Brutus | says | he was am- | bitious ; | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 And | Brutus j 7 is an | honorable | man. | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 

28* 



330 ©RAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

He hath | brought | many | captives | home to | Rome, \ 
7 Whose | ransoms | 7 did the | general | coffers [ 

fill; | 77 )7 7 | 
7 Did | this | 7 in | Caesar | seem am- | bitious ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
When that the | poor have | cried, | 7 7 | Caesar hath | 

wept ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Am- | bition | 7 should be | made of | sterner | stuff. | 

7 7 | 77 | 
7 Yet | Brutus | says | 7 he | was am- | bitious ; | 
7 7 | 7 And | Brutus | 7 is an | honorable | man. | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 You | all did | see, | 7 that, | on the | Lupercal, | 
7 I | thrice pre- | sented him | 7 a | kingly | crown ; | 
7 7 | Which he did | thrice | 7 re- | fuse. | 7 7 | 7 Was 

| this am- | bition ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 Yet | Brutus | says, | he was am- | bitious ; | 7 7 | 
7 And | sure, | 7 he | is | 7 an | honorable | man ? | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 I | speak not | 7 to dis- | prove | what | Brutus 

| spoke, | 
7 But | here | I am to | speak | what I do | know. | 

7 7 |77 | 
7 You | all did | love him | once j | 7 7 | not without | 

cause. | 7 7 | 
What | cause with- | holds you | then, | 7 to | mourn 

for him ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | " 

| judgment ! | 7 7 | Thou art | fled to | brutish | 

beasts, | 7 7 | 
7 And | men | 7 have | lost their | reason ! | 7 7 | 7 7 j 
Bear with me : | 

1 7 I 7 My | heart 7 | is, in the | coffin | there | 7 with | 

Caesar j | 



EXERCISES. 331 

7 7 | And I must | pause 7 | till it | come | back to me. 

| 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 But | yesterday, | 7 the | word of | Caesar, | might | 
7 Have | stood a- | gainst the | world ! | 7 7 | now | 

lies he | there, | 
7 7 | 7 And | none | so | poor | 7 to | do him | reve- 
rence. [ 7 7 | 7 7 [ 

| masters ! | 7 7 | If I were dis- | posed to | stir | 

7 Your | hearts and | minds | 7 to | mutiny and | rage, | 

1 should do | Brutus | wrong, | 7 and | Cassius | 7 7 | 

wrong; | 
7 7 | Who, | 7 you | all | know, | 7 are | honorable | 

men. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 I | will not | do | them | wrong ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | I | rather 

| choose | 
7 To | wrong the | dead, | 7 to | wrong my- | self | 

7 and | you, | 
Than I will | wrong | such 7 | honorable | men. | 7 7 | 

7 7 | 
7 But | here's a | parchment | 7 with the | seal of [ 

Caesar ; | 
7 I | found it | 7 in his | closet ; | 7 7 | 'Tis his | 

will : | 7 7 | 
Let but the | commons | hear | 7 this | testament, | 7 7 | 
7 (Which, | pardon me, |, 7 I | do not | mean to | read,) [ 
7 7 | And they would | go | 7 and j kiss | dead | Caesar's | 

wounds, | 
7 And | dip their | napkins | 7 in his | sacred | blood ; | 
7 7 | Yea | beg a | hair of him | 7 for j memory, | 
7 And | dying, | 7 7 | mention it | within their | wills, | 
7 7 | 7 Be- | queathing it I 7 as a | rich 7 | legacy, | 
Unto their | issue. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



332 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

If you have | tears, | 7 pre- | pare to j shed them | 
now. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 You | all do | know | this | mantle : | 7 7 | I re- | 

member | 
7 The j first | time | ever | Caesar | put it | on ; | 7 7 | 
'Twas on a | summer's | evening | 7 in his | tent ; | 7 7 | 
That | day | 7 he | over- | came the | Nervii : | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Look ! | 7 in | this | place | ran | Cassius' | dagger | 

through ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
See what a | rent | 7 the | envious | Casca | made. | 

7 7| 7 7 | 
Through | this | 7 the | well be- | loved | Brutus | 

stabbed, | 7 7 | 
7 7 | And as he | plucked his | cursed | steel a- | way, | 
7 7 | Mark 7 | how the j blood of | Caesar | followed 

it ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
This | 7 was the | most un- | kindest | cut of | all ! | 
7 7 | 7 For | when the | noble | Caesar | saw | him | 

stab, | 
7 In- | gratitude | 7 more | strong than | traitor's | arms, j 
Quite | vanquished him : | 7 7 | then | burst his | mighty 

heart ; j 7 7 \ 
And in his | mantle, | 7 7 | muffling up his | face, | 7 7 | 
Even at the | base of | Pompey's | statue, | 
7 7 | 7 (Which | all the | while | ran | blood,) | 7 7 | 

great | Caesar | fell. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
O what a | fall | 7 was | there, | 7 my j countrymen ! | 

7 7 | 77| 
Then | I, | 7 and | you, | 7 and | all of us, | fell | down, | 
7 Whilst | bloody | treason | flourished | over us. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
O ! | now you | weep ; | 7 7 | 7 and I per- | ceive | 7 you 
I feel, I 



EXERCISES. 333 

7 The | dint of | pity ; | 7 7 | these | 7 are | gracious | 

drops. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Kind | souls ; | 7 7 | what I weep you, | 7 7 | when you 

but be- | hold | 
7 Our | Caesar's | vesture | wounded? | 7 7 | 7 7 j Look 

you J here ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Here is him- | self, | 7 7 | marr'd [ 7 as you | see, | 7 by 

| traitors. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Good | friends, | sweet | friends, | 7 7 [ let me not | 

stir you | up | 
7 To | such a | sudden | flood of | mutiny, j 7 7 | 
7 7 | They that have | done this | deed, ] 7 are j hono- 
rable : | 
7 7 | What ) private | griefs | 7 they | have, ) 7 a- ] las ! j 

7 I | know not, | 
7 That | made them | do it ; | 7 7 | they are | wise, [ 

7 and | honorable, | 
7 And | will | 7 no | doubt, | 7 with | reason | answer 

you. | 7 7 j 7 7 | 
7 I | come not, | friends, | ? ; to | steal away | 7 your | 

hearts; [.7 7 | 
I am | no | orator, \ 7 as | Brutus | is ; | 
7 7 | But as you | know me | all, | 7 a | plain | blunt | 

man, | 
7 That | love my | friends ; | 7 7 [ 7 and | that | they [ 

know | full | well | 
7 That | gave me | public | leave | 7 to [ speak of him. 

| 7 7 | 77 | 
For I have | neither | wit, | 7 nor | words, j 7 nor | 

worth. | 7 7 | 
Action, | 7 nor | utterance, | 7 nor | power of j speech, | 



334 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 To | stir | men's | blood. | 7 7 | 7 I only | speak | 

right | on : | 7 7 | 
7 I ] tell you | that | 7 which | you your- | selves j 7 do j 

know ; | 
7 7 | Show you | sweet | Caesar's | wounds, | 7 7 | poor, 

| poor, | dumb | mouths, | 
7 And | bid | them | speak | for me. | 7 7 | 7 7 | But 

were | I | Brutus, | 
7 And | Brutus | Antony, | 7 7 | there were an | Antony | 
7 Would | ruffle | up your | spirits, | 7 7 | 7 and | put a | 

tongue | 
7 In | every | wound of | Caesar, | 7 that should | move | 
7 The | stones of ! Rome | 7 to | rise in | mutiny. | 

77 17 71 



SPEECH OF PATRICK HENRY. 

Mr. | President, | 7 7 | 7 it is | natural to | man | 7 to 
in- | dulge in the il- | lusions of | hope. | 7 7 | 7 7 | We 
are | apt to | shut our | eyes | 7 a- | gainst a | painful | 
truth, | 7 7 | 7 and | listen to the | song of that | Syren, 
| 7 7 | till she trans- | forms us | 7 into | beasts. | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 Is | this the | part of | wise | men, | 7 en- | ga- 
ged in a | great and | arduous | struggle | 7 for | liberty ? 
J 7 7 | 7 7 | Are we dis- | posed | 7 to | be of the | 
number of | those | 7 who | having | eyes, | see not, | 7 
and | having | ears, | hear not the | things | 7 which so | 
nearly con- | cern our | temporal sal- | vation? | 7 7 | 
7 7 | 7 For | my | part, | 7 what- | ever | anguish of | 



EXERCISES. 335 

spirit | 7 it may | cost, | 7 7 | I am J willing to | know 
the | whole | truth ; | 7 7 | 7 to | know the | worst, | 7 7 
| and to pro- | vide for it. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 I | have but | one | lamp, | 7 by which | my | feet 
are | guided ; | 7 7 | 7 and | that | 7 is the | lamp of ex- 
| perience. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I | know of | no | way of | 
judging of the | future | 7 7 | but by the | past. I 7 7 j 
7 7 | 7 And | judging by the | past, | 7 I j wish to | know 
| what there has | been | 7 in the | conduct of the | Brit- 
ish | ministry | 7 for the | last | ten | years, | 7 to | justify j 
7 those | hopes | 7 with which | gentlemen | 7 have been | 
pleased to | solace them- | selves | 7 and the | house ? | 
7 7 | 7 7 | Is it | that in- I sidious | smile | 7 with ] which 
our pe- j tition | 7 has been | lately re- | ceived ? | 7 7 | 
7 7 I Trust it not | 7 Sir ; | it will | prove a | snare | 7 to 
your | feet. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Suffer not your- | selves | 7 to be 
be- | trayed | 7 with a | kiss. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Ask yourselves j 
how this | gracious re- | ception | 7 of our pe- | tition | 7 
com- | ports with those | w T ar-like | prepa- | rations | 7 
which | cover our | waters | 7 and | darken our | land. | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Are | fleets and | armies | necessary | 7 to a | 
work of | love and | reconcili- | ation ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Have 
we | shown ourselves | so un- | willing to be | reconciled, | 
7 that | force | 7 must be | called | in | 7 to | win | back 
our | love ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Let us not | 7 de- | ceive our- 
selves, | Sir. | 7 7 | 7 7 j These j are the | implements of 
| war | 7 and | subju- | gation ; | 7 7 | 7 the | last | argu- 
ments | 7 to which | kings re- j sort. | 7 7 | 7 1 | ask | 
gentlemen, | 7 Sir, | what | means this j martial ar- | ray, | 
7 if its | purpose | be not to j force us to sub- | mission ? | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Can | gentlemen as- | sign | any | other | 
possible | motive for it? ( 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Has | Great | Bri- 



336 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

tain | any | enemy | 7 in | this | quarter of the | world, | 7 
to ] call for | all this ac- | cumu- | lation | 7 of | navies and 
armies ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | No Sir, | she has | none. | 7 7 | 7 7 
They are | meant for j us : | 7 7 | 7 they | can be | meant 
for | no | other. | 7 7 | 7 7 | They are | sent | over | 7 to 
bind and | rivet upon us | those | chains, | which the 
British | ministry | 7 have been | so | long | forging. | 7 7 
7 7 | And | what | have we | 7 to op- | pose to them ? 
7 7 | 7 7 | Shall we | try | argument? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Sir, | 7 
we | have been | ^trying | that | 7 for the | last | ten 
years. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Have we | any thing | new | 7 to 
offer | 7 upon the | subject ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Nothing. | 7 7 
7 7 | We have | held the | subject | up | 7 in | every 
light of | which it is | capable ; | 7 7 | but it has been | all 
in | vain. | 7 7 | 7 7 | Shall we re- | sort to en- | treaty 
7 and | humble | suppli- | cation ? j 7 7 | 7 7 | What 
terms | 7 shall we | find | which j have not | been al- 
ready ex- | hausted ? | 7 7 | 7 7 j Let us not | 7 I be- 
seech you, Sir, | 7 de- J ceive ourselves | longer, j 7 7 
7 7 J Sir, j 7 we have j done j every thing j 7 that 
could be ] done, j 7 to a- j vert the | storm | 7 which is 
now | coming | on. | 7 7 | 7 7 | We have pe- | titioned, 
7 7 | we have re- | monstrated, | 7 7 | we have | suppli- 
cated, | 7 7 | we have | prostrated ourselves | 7 be- | fore 
the | throne, | 7 7 | and have im- | plored | its | interpo- 
sition ) 7 to ar-| rest the ty- j rannical | hands | 7 of the 
ministry | 7 and | parliament. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Our pe- | ti- 
tions | 7 have been | slighted ; | 7 7 | 7 our re- | mon- 
strances | 7 have pro- | duced ad- | ditional | violence, | 7 
and | insult ; | 7 7 | 7 our | suppli- | cations | 7 have been 
| disre- | garded ; | 7 7 | 7 and | we have been | spurned, | 
7 with con- | tempt, | 7 from the | foot of the | throne. | 



EXERCISES. 337 

7 7 I 7 7 I 7 In I vain, | 7 after | these j things, 7 | may 
we in- | dulge the | fond | hope of | peace | 7 and | recon- 
cile | ation. | 7 7 | 7 7 | There is | no \ longer \ any | 
room for | hope. | 7 7 | 7 7 | If we | wish to be | free, | 
7 7 | if we | mean to pre- | serve in- J violate | those in- 
| estimable j privileges | 7 for | which we have been | 
so | long con- | tending, | 7 7 | if we | mean not | basely 
to a- | bandon | 7 the | noble | struggle | 7 in | which 
we have been | so | long en- | gaged, | 7 and | which we 
have | pledged ourselves J never to a- | bandon, ( 7 7 | 
until the | glorious | object | 7 of our | contest | shall be 
ob- | tained, | 7 7 | We must | fight; j 7 7 | 7 7 | I re- 
| peat it, Sir, | 7 we | must 7 | fight ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 An 
ap- | peal to | arms, | and to the | God of | Hosts, | 7 is 
| all | 7 that is | left us ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

7 They | tell us, | Sir, 7 | that we are | weak, | 7 un- 
| able to j cope with so | formidable an | adversary. | 7 7 
| 7 7 | 7 But | when shall we be | stronger ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Will it be the | next | week, j 7 or the | next | year ? | 
7 7 | 7 7 | Will it j be j when we are | totally dis- | 
armed, | 7 and | when a | British | guard | 7 shall be | 
stationed in j every | house ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Shall we | 
gather | strength | 7 by | irreso- | lution, | 7 and in- | ac- 
tion ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Shall we ac- | quire the | means of 
ef- | fectual re- | sistance, | 7 by | lying su- | pinely | 7 
on our j backs, | 7 and | hugging the de- | lusive j phan- 
tom of | hope, | 7 un- | til our | enemies | 7 shall have | 
bound us | hand and | foot? | 7 7 | 7 7 | Sir, 7 | 7 we 
are | not | weak, | 7 if we | make a | proper J use of | 
those | means | 7 which the | God of | nature J 7 hath | 
placed in our | power, j 7 7 | 7 7 | Three | millions of J 
people, | 7 7 | armed in the | holy | cause of | liberty, | 

29 



338 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 and in | such a | country j 7 as | that which | we pos* 
| sess, | 7 are in- | vincible | 7 by | any | force | 7 which 
our | enemy | 7 can | send a- | gainst us. | 7 7 | 7 7 j 
7 Be- | sides, Sir, | 7 we shall | not | fight our | battles 
a- | lone. | 7 7 | 7 7 | There is a | just | God | 7 who 
pre- | sides | over the | destinies of J nations ; | 7 7 | 7 
and | who will | raise j up | friends | 7 to | fight our 
battles | for us. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The | battle, j Sir, | 7 is 
not to the j strong a- | lone, | 7 7 | it | is to the | vigilant 
| 7 the | active, | 7 the | brave. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Be- 
sides, Sir, | 7 we have | no e- | lection. | 7 7 | 7 7 
If we were | base enough | 7 to de- | sire it, | 7 it is 
now | too | late | 7 to re- | tire from the | contest. | 7 7 
7 7 j There is | no re- | treat, | 7 7 | but in sub- | mis 
sion | 7 and | slavery. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Our | chains are 
forged. | 7 7 | 7 7 [ 7 Their | clanking | 7 may be 
heard | on the | plains of | Boston. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 the 
war | 7 is in- | evitable, | 7 7 | and | let it | come ! 
7 7 | 7 7 | 7 I re- | peat it Sir, | 7 7 | let it | come ! 
7 7 | 7 7 | It is in | vain Sir | 7 to ex- | tenuate the 
matter. | 7 7 | Gentlemen may | cry | peace, | peace ! 
7 7 | but there | is no | peace. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 The ] war 
is | actually be- | gun ! | 7 7 | 7 7 j 7 The | next | gale 
that | sweeps from the | north | 7 will | bring to our 
ears | 7 the | clash of re- | sounding | arms ! | 7 7 | 7 7 
7 Our | brethren | 7 are al- | ready j 7 in the | field ! 
7 7 | 7 7 | Why | stand | we | here | idle ? | 7 7 | 7 7 
What | is it | 7 that | gentlemen | wish ? | 7 7 | 7 7 
What 7 | would they | have? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 7 Is | life 7 
so | dear, | 7 or | peace | so | sweet, | as to be | pur- 
chased | 7 at the | price of | chains and | slavery ? | 7 7 
7 7 | 7 For- | bid it, | 7 Al- | mighty | God ! [ 7 7 | 7 



EXERCISES. 339 

I I know not | what | course | others may | take ; | 7 7 j 
7 but | as for | me, | 7 7 | give me | liberty; j 7 7 J 7 or 
| give me | death ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



THE BATTLE OF WARSAW. 

Campbell. 
7 When | leagued op- | pression | poured to | northern j 

wars, | 
7 Her | whisker'd | pandoors, | 7 and her | fierce | 7 hus- 

| sars, | 7 7 | 
Waved her | dread | standard | 7 to the | breeze of | 

morn, | 
7 7 J Peal'd her | loud | drum, | 7 and | twang'd her | 

trumpet | horn; | 
7 7 | 7 Tu- | multuous | horror | 7 7 | brooded | o'er 

her | van, | 
7 Pre- | saging | wrath, | 7 to | Poland, | 7 7 | 7 and to 

| man ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 

Warsaw's | last | champion | 7 from her | heights | 7 sur- 
| vey'd, | 7 7 | 

Wide o'er the | fields, | 7 a | waste of | ruin | laid ; | 
7 7 | 7 7 | 

O ! | Heaven ! | 7 he | cried, | 7 my | bleeding | coun- 
try | save ! | 

7 7 | Is there no | hand on | high, | 7 to | shield the | 
brave ? | 7 7 | 

What though de- | struction | 7 7 | sweep these | lovely 
| plains, | 

Rise, | fellow | men ! | 7 our | country | 7 7 | yet re- | 
mains ! I 



340 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

7 By [ that | dread | name, | 7 we | wave the | sword 

on | high, | 
7 And | swear j 7 for | her to | live ! | 7 7 | 7with | her 

| 7 to | die ! | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 He | said, | 7 7 | 7 and | on the | rampart | heights | 

7 ar- | ray'd | 
7 His | trusty | wariors, | 7 7 | few, | 7 but | undis- | 

may'd ; | 
7 7 | Firm | paced, | 7 and | slow, | 7 a | horrid | front 

they | form, | 7 7 | 
Still | 7 as the [ breeze, | 7 but | dreadful | 7 as the | 

storm ; | 7 7 | 
Low | murmuring | sounds a- | long their | banners | fly, | 
7 Re- | venge | 7 or | death, | 7 the | watchword | and 

re- | ply ; | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Then | peal'd the | notes, | 7 ora- | nipotent to | charm, | 
7 And the | loud | tocsin | 7 7 | toll'd | 7 their | last a- | 

larm. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 In | vain, | 7 a- | las ! | 7 in | vain, | 7 7 | 7 ye | gal- 
lant | few ! | 
7 From | rank to | rank | 7 your | volley 5 d | thunder | 

flew; | 7 7 | 
Oh ! | bloodiest | picture | 7 in the | book of | Time, | 
7 Sar- | matia | fell, | un- | wept, | 7 with- | out a | 

crime : | 
Found not a | generous | friend, | 7 a | pitying | foe, [ 
7 7 | Strength in her | arms, | 7 nor | mercy | 7 in her j 

wo ! | 7 7 | 
Dropp'd from her | nerveless | grasp, | 7 the | shatter'd | 

spear, I 
7 7 | Closed her | bright | eye, | 7 and | curb'd | 7 her j 

high ca- | reer ; | 7 7 | 



EXERCISES. 341 

Hope, | 7 for a | season, | 7 7 | bade the | world | fare- 

I well, | 
7 7 | 7 And | Freedom | shriek'd, | 7 as | Kosci- | usko 

| fell. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 The | sun | went | down, | 7 nor | ceased the j car- 
nage | there, | 
7 Tu- | multuous | murder | 7 7 | shook the i midnight | 

air, | 7 7 | 
7 On | Prague's | proud | arch | 7 the | fires of | ruin | 

glow, | 
7 His | blood-dyed | waters | 7 7 | murmuring | far be- 

I low; | 7 7 | 
7 The | storm pre- | vails, | 7 7 | 7 the | rampart | 

yields a | way, | 
Bursts the | wild | cry | 7 of | horror | 7 and dis- | may ! 

| 7 7| 
Hark ! | 7 7 | 7 as the | smouldering | piles | 7 with | 

thunder | fall ! | 
7 A | thousand | shrieks | 7 for | hopeless | mercy | call ! 

|77| 
Earth | shook, | 7 7 | red | meteors | flashed a- | long the 

I sky, | 
7 And | conscious I Nature | shudder'd | 7 at the | cry ! | 

7 7 | 7 7 | 



SPEECH OF CASSIUS, INSTIGATING BRUTUS TO JOIN 
THE CONSPIRACY AGAINST CiESAR. 

Shakspeare. 

Well ! | Honor | 7 is the | subject | 7 of my | story. 

7 7 | 7 7 | 
7 I | cannot | tell | 7 what | you | 7 and | other | men 



342 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 



1 



Think of this | life; | 7 7 | But for my | single | self; | 
I | 7 had as | lief | not | be, | 7 as | live to | be | 
7 In ) awe of | such a | thing | 7 as | I my- | self. | 7 7 | 
I was | born | free as | Caesar; | 7 7 | so were j you 

|77| 
7 We | both have | fed as | well ; | 7 7 | 7 and | we 

can | both | 
7 En- | dure the | winter's | cold, | 7 as | well as 

he, | 7 7 | 
7 For | once | 7 upon a | raw and | gusty | day, | 
7 The | troubled | Tiber | chafing | 7 with his | 

shores, | 
Caesar | says to me, | 7 7 | "Dar'st thou, | Cassius, | 

now | 
Leap | in with | me | into this | angry | flood, | 
7 And | swim to | yonder | point ?" | 7 7 | 7 Upon the | 

word, | 
7 Ac- | coutered as I | was, | 7 I | plunged | in, | 
7 And | bade | him | follow : | 7 7 | so in- | deed he | 

did. | 
7 The | torrent | roared, | 7 7 | and we did | buf- 
fet it | 
7 With j lusty | sinews ; | 7 7 | throwing it a- | side, | 
7 And stemming it | 7 with | hearts of | controversy. 

I 77 | 
7 But | ere | 7 we could ar- | rive the | point pro- | 

posed | 
Caesar | cryed | 7 7 | " Help me, | 7 7 | Cassius, | 7 or 

I | sink." | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
I, 7 | 7 as JE- | neas, | 7 our | great | ancestor, | 
7 7 | Did from the | flames of | Troy, | 7 upon his J 
shoulders I 



EXERCISES. 343 

7 The | old An- | chises | bear ; | 7 7 | so from the [ 

waves of | Tiber, | 
7 Did | I 7 | 7 the | tired [ Caesar; | 7 7 | 7 and this [ 

man | 
7 Is | now be- | come a | God ; | 7 7 | 7 and | Cassius 

|7is| 
7 A | wretched | creature, | 7 and must | bend his | 

body, | 
If | Caesar | 7 7 | carelessly j 7 but | nod on him. [ 

77|77| 
He had a | fever | when he was in | Spain, | 
7 And | when the | fit was | on him | 7 I did | mark | 
How he did j shake ; | 7 7 | 7 'tis | true j | this | God | 7 

did | shake ; | 7 7 | 
7 His | coward | lips | did from their | colour | fly ; | 
7 And | that same | eye, | 7 whose | bend | 7 doth | 

awe the | world, | 
7 Did | lose its | lustre j | 7 7 | 7 I did | hear him | 

groan : | 7 7 | 
Aye, | 7 and that | tongue of his | 7 that | bade the | 

Romans | 
Mark him, | 7 and | write his | speeches | 7 in their | 

books, | 
7 7 | A- | las ! | 7 it | cried ; | 7 7 | Give me some | 

drink, | 7Ti- j tinius!" | 
7 As a | sick | girl. | 7 7 | 7 Ye | Gods, | 7 it doth a- t 

maze me, j 
7 A | man of | such a | feeble | temper, | 7 should [ 
So j get the j start | 7 of the ma- J jestic | world, | 
7 And | bear the I palm a- | lone. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Brutus | 7 and | Ccesar. | 7 7 | What | should be in \ 
that | Ccesar? [ 7 7 | 7 7 | 



344 GRAMMAR OF ELOCUTION. 

Why should | that 7 | name | 7 be | sounded | more 

than | yours ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Write them to- | gether ; | 7 7 | yours | 7 is as | fair a | 

name ; | 7 7 | 
Sound them ; | 7 7 | it doth be- | come the | mouth as | 

well, | 
7 7 | Weigh them j | 7 7 | it is as | heavy : | 7 7 | con- 
jure with 'em | 7 7 | 
Brutus | 7 will | start a | spirit | 7 as | soon as | Caesar. 

| 7 7 J 
Now in the | name of | all the | Gods at | once, | 7 7 | 
Upon what | meats | 7 doth | this our | Caesar | feed, | 
That he has I grown so | great? | 7 7 | Age, | thou art | 

shamed ! | 7 7 | 
Rome, | 7 thou hast | lost thy | breed of | noble | bloods. 

| 77 | 7 7 | 
When | went there | by an | age, | since the great ] 

flood, | 
But it was | famed | 7 with | more | than with | one | 

man? | 7 7 | 
When could they | say, | 7 till | now, | 7 that | talked 

of | Rome, | 
7 That her | wide | walls | 7 en- | compassed | 7 but | 

one | man ? | 7 7 | 7 7 | 
Oh ! | 7 7 | you and | I | 7 have | heard our | fathers | 

say, | 
There was a | Brutus | once, | 7 7 | that would have | 

brook' d | 
7 The in- | fernal | devil, | 7 to | keep | his | state in ] 

Rome | 
7 As | easily | 7 as a | king. | 7 7 | 7 7 | 



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